The Serpents' Child
by venusmercurysunev
Summary: Part 1 of Series. What if Hermione Granger wasn't Hermione Granger? Born to Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange, Hermione is raised in the muggle world. But after the Azkaban breakout, what happens when mummy and daddy want their baby back? HGxLV. HGxBZ. HGxMF. HGxDolohov. AU / OOC.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Prologue**

_November 1981; Lestrange Manor_

Rodolphus Lestrange walked through the corridors of his ancestral home, fastening the silver cufflinks into the sleeves of his black silk shirt that was tucked neatly into his signature black leather trousers. Billowing behind him were his Death Eater robes that he had forgotten to fasten, trailing after him like black smoke, weighing next to nothing on his body. Hidden in the depths of one of the pockets was his silver mask with vine designs carved into it, small vertical slits where his mouth was beneath it. On his way to collect his wife, he smiled to himself as he heard the sound that had become sweeter and more beautiful than music to his ears; the sound of his child laughing as his wife entertained them whilst he had gotten himself ready. As he had been giving the child a bath, Bella had received a missive from Barty Crouch Jr, inviting them both to go on a mission with him that evening. Bella had dressed first, then took the child from him so that he could change out of the wet clothes that he always got from giving their child a bath, and into his dry Death Eater garments.

Bellatrix had been very depressed for a couple of weeks, all due to the fall of the Dark Lord Voldemort. They had been loyal servants of His ever since His name had been a mere whisper in the wind. He truly had been a loyal servant, especially proving his worth when Bellatrix had been too pregnant to go on missions, as she had so loved to do. Becoming a father had been an eye-opener for him, making him realise that there could be someone who he loved more than his wife or be more loyal to than his Lord. The moment he had held his child in his arms, he knew that he would do anything for them. Anything.

He pushed the door open as he arranged the ends of his sleeves to be more comfortable and loose. Leaning against the wood of the doorframe, he watched with a smile as his wife helped their daughter – yes, _daughter_! (When all the other Death Eaters had had sons, there was instantly talk of marriage contracts, but Bellatrix quickly silenced them with the point of her wand and a glare; a Bellatrix that had only given birth an hour before was perhaps more terrifying than a normal Bellatrix) – arrange the wooden blocks with letters painted on them into short words that they were teaching her. The little girl, with light brown curls and dressed in a deep blue pyjama suit with moons sewn into it, took the block Bellatrix was offering and put it at the end of the line of blocks and then clapped and laughed loudly to herself as she correctly spelt out 'table'. Bellatrix smiled and clapped with her and then laughed as their little girl started pushing the letters apart and searching for new letters to use.

Hating to interrupt the homely scene, Rodolphus cleared his throat, making his wife look at him from her place of kneeling on the floor.

"Bella, darling? It's time to go."

Their daughter looked up as she held an 'F' block which looked huge in her tiny hands. "Where you goin', daddy?" Her speech was really coming along, but she still couldn't pronounce any 'Th's or 'L's.

His heart melted as he looked down at his beautiful girl with her big brown eyes as she stood there in the adorable pyjama set that Bellatrix's sister Narcissa – which was also the middle name of their daughter – had gifted to them, but he put on a brave face. Walking over to his girls, he got down on one knee and held her minute hand gently. "Mummy and daddy are going out with some of our friends."

"Don't I get to come?" She frowned sadly. "Was I bad?"

"No, sweetie, of course you weren't bad." Bella cooed, pulling her child into a hug and kissing the top of her head.

"Den how come-?"

"Play with your blocks, baby." Rodolphus cut across, taking Bella's hand and pulling her up. The little girl frowned at being interrupted but continued arranging the letters to spell 'fire'. He noticed that as he was pulling Bella out the room, she seemed to be hesitating. "What is it?" He questioned gently as they stopped by the door.

She kept her eyes on their little girl. "It's just…"

Rodolphus took a guess. "I thought you were looking forward to tonight…"

"I was, I am! But…"

His heart softened again. Anymore softening and it would turn into butter! "You don't want to leave her?"

She smiled sadly. "I never want to leave her." He nodded understandingly, even though he didn't. They'd left her many times before, what was so different about tonight? "I just have this horrible feeling that something might happen tonight."

He took her hand. "Bella, she's been fine when we've left her before. It's just for a few hours. Remember when we left her for the weekend?" By the time they had returned home, Bellatrix had almost killed Voldemort Himself due to desperation to get back to her baby! "It's just for a couple of hours. She'll be asleep in her room, the elves ready to kill anything that so much as looks at her…She'll be fine." He whispered reassuringly, holding Bella's hand to his heart.

It pained her but Bellatrix nodded. "Let me say goodnight to her."

He nodded. "Quickly. It's time to leave."

Bellatrix hurried over to their daughter and scooped her up into her arms, almost shedding tears when the girl laughed loudly and wrapped her arms around her mother's neck. "Alright, darling, mummy and daddy are going out now. We'll be back soon, I promise." She promised as she pressed a big wet kiss on her cheek.

"Okay, mummy." She said quietly, sad that she couldn't go out with her mummy. With a heavy heart, Bella kissed her again and put her back down on the floor. "I wuv you, mummy."

"I love you too, Hermione."


	2. NOT AN UPDATE!

_This isn't a second update; I just wanted to put some notes online :)_

Can I first say how amazed I am at how quickly so many people have responded to this story? Brings a tear to my eye whilst making me punch the air in success :) I posted it before an evening class and when I came back, I casually checked my emails and when it said that I had 67 new emails I almost fell out of my chair! 3 hours, 12 reviews, 21 favourites and 28 alerts! That's what I call progress! :D

Anyway, about the story! I've had this idea in my idea for a while but because of exams, family stuff, stress, no time and the dreaded unspeakable Writers' Block, this story never materialised until now. It's in the HermionexVoldemort category but there will be other pairings such as HermionexMarcusFlint and HermionexBlaiseZabini.

In response to a review by **TygTag**, the story will be pretty much chronological with time jumps in the middle (Can't fill chapters with uneventful muggle life, now can we? Oops! Spoiler! :P)

**FlyingPigMonkey**: Yes, there IS a softer side to the Lestranges if you can believe that, but Hermione will be the only person that they will ever show it to, being their baby girl and all… :)

Thank you everyone and I hope you enjoy the story!

xxxx


	3. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 1**

_November 1981; Malfoy Manor_

A loud 'pop' of Apparation almost made Lucius Malfoy jump in surprise. He was reclining in his favourite armchair with a tumbler of brandy in his hand as the sound had happened. Grabbing his cane and removing the wand, ready to kill the person who had Apparated into his house without asking, or even warning him beforehand, he shot out of his armchair and aimed the wand. And then stopped. A cowering House Elf which he recognised from his insane sister-in-law's home was holding his niece-in-law's hand. Not many people knew but he did indeed have a soft spot for this little one, particularly as she stood in the pyjamas his wife had given her, her comfort blanket draped over her free arm as the hand rubbed her eyes. It was nearly midnight! Why was she here?

"M-Master Malfoy!" The Elf stammered. "I is – I is transporting Missy Hermione here, on Mistress Lestrange's orders!"

"Why?" He demanded as he slid his wand back into his cane.

Hermione finished rubbing her eyes, which popped open in excitement as she saw the blonde man. "Uncy Oosy!" She cried excitedly, running up to him and being swept into his arms.

"I ask again, Elf, why is Hermione here?"

Before the creature could answer, the door opened. "Lucius? I heard an Apparation." His wife, Narcissa, and mother of their child Draco, who was almost a year younger than Hermione, stepped into the room. She took in the scene before her and her eyes filled with tears. But she pushed them down to hurry over to Lucius and take Hermione into her own arms as the girl cried 'Aunty Cissy!' and rested her head against the blonde woman's shoulder, hugging her blanket close to her.

"Narcissa, what's going on?" Lucius demanded, seeing as how the Elf had just vanished with another 'pop'.

She simply shook her head, her eyes still filled with tears, and left the room.

!"!

The next morning, Lucius was sitting at the breakfast table, waiting for Narcissa to come down. The two of them always had breakfast before Draco woke up. She came in at the normal time, her silk dressing gown wrapped around her. Her face was red and puffy. She'd been crying. Why? Lucius stood up as an Elf pulled out her seat opposite him and sat down when she had. A minute went by before he spoke gently.

"What's the matter?" She held her head in her hands. "Why was Hermione brought her last night? And why did that upset you so?"

Narcissa didn't speak for a minute. "Bella came to me after the Dark Lord had fallen. She told me that she and some others weren't going to stop completing missions even though He was gone. And she told me that it was possible that there would be a time when she and Rodolphus wouldn't return. That's why the Elf was here. The Elves have orders that upon both of their deaths, Hermione was to be brought here. To us. To take care of her now that…Now that her parents…" She couldn't finish, simply burst into tears. "Bellatrix and Rodolphus are dead. My sister…"

Lucius hung his head sadly. Neither of them noticed that an owl had delivered the morning newspaper until it unrolled and nudged Lucius' arm. His heart plummeted as he saw the front page. "No, darling, it's much worse than that." He held up the newspaper.

'_Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange ARRESTED and IMPRISONED; Trial on Monday'_

!"!

It happened on Monday. Narcissa and Lucius had only just returned from the trial which had seen Bellatrix and Rodolphus both sentenced with life imprisonment in Azkaban, when there was a heavy pounding on the front door. An Elf answered the door and was pushed out the way by two dozen Aurors.

"What is the meaning of this?" Lucius bellowed as he and Narcissa stepped into the entrance hall from the study.

An Auror unfolded a piece of parchment and brandished it. "This is an official warrant for the removal of one Hermione Narcissa Lestrange. The child will be released into the care of the Ministry of Magic for immediate relocation."

"What?" Narcissa demanded, snatching the parchment from his hand. As she read it, it was indeed what the man had said. Hermione, under the care of the Malfoys, was deemed to be a risk and would be placed with another family that the Ministry chose. "This is ridiculous, she's a child!"

"Yes, ma'am," He spat, "she's the child of Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange. The child of two of the most infamous Death Eaters ever to have walked this Earth. She _will _be released into Ministry custody-"

"Custody?" Narcissa shouted, having to be held back by Lucius. "She's an infant, not a criminal!"

"An infant now, perhaps. But in ten years? Twenty years? Everyone knows the Malfoys," He spat the name at Lucius, "are just as Dark as the Lestranges. That is why the Minister for Magic has ordered for Hermione Narcissa Lestrange to be removed from anyone who may be a negative influence on her in the future! Now, sir and madam, you _will_ give us the child!" He commanded as the other Aurors started spreading out and searching the house.

Narcissa cried as the men starting heading upstairs, where Hermione was taking a nap in her new room. She looked to Lucius who was just standing passively beside her. "Lucius! Do something! Don't let them take her! You can't!"

He grasped her shoulders firmly. "Narcissa, this is an official warrant, not a kidnapping. We have no rights now!"

"But-!"

"But I promise you, Narcissa, we _will_ get her back! I will not let her be placed with…With some muggles!"

!"!

But that's exactly where she was placed.

November 1981, Hermione Narcissa Lestrange arrived at a muggle orphanage in the middle of the night, with simply a note tucked into her belongings telling whoever would open the door first that her name was Hermione, she was two years and two months old and she was an orphan. Seeing as how she was older than the 'orphans' that the orphanage was used to, the staff had tried to ask her where she had come from and where her parents were, but all she knew was her name and that her parents were dead. She didn't know where she lived. She didn't know her parents' names. Or if she had any brothers or sisters or aunts or grandparents or uncles or cousins…Her memory was almost completely blank.

It was only a few days later that an infertile muggle couple named Jean and Graham Granger came along and fell in love with her at first sight and had taken her home and officially adopted her.

From then on Hermione Narcissa Lestrange, future heiress to two vast Pureblood estates, became Hermione Jane Granger, muggle daughter of two dentists.


	4. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 2**

_July 1991_

A knock on the door sounded throughout the house near Hampstead, London. An eleven year old girl with bushy brown hair bounded down the stairs, announcing to her parents that she would answer the door. Looking through the peephole and frowning in confusion on what she saw, she put the chain on the door and opened it slowly. An elderly man in long purple robes smiled down at her. His face was decorated with a full white beard that came down to his chest; he also had long white hair that was almost down to his buttocks. His blue eyes twinkled at her and she wanted to smile back at him. But she remembered that her parents had always told her to be cautious when she answered the door.

"Can I help you?"

"Are you Hermione Granger?" He asked gently.

She frowned. "Yes."

"I'm Professor Dumbledore. Can I come in?"

!"!

It took nearly an hour for Dumbledore to convince the Grangers that Hermione was a witch. No matter how many pencils he transformed into quills or turned a fork into a spoon with arms, legs and a face and made it tap-dance across the coffee table and up Hermione's arm and stop on top of her head. Jean Granger had told Hermione to put the kettle on and make everyone a cup of tea – 'with some brandy!' Graham had added – when Dumbledore leant forward.

"Mr Granger, Mrs Granger, I know this situation is difficult for you but I promise you that Hermione will be in excellent hands at Hogwarts. She'll have the best teachers, a secure living area and you can write to her whenever you wish."

Graham nodded, taking his wife's hand. "We just want our daughter to be happy."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled for a second before he said, "But we all know, don't we?"

"Excuse me?"

"We all know that she isn't your daughter." He said quietly. "Don't be alarmed, I won't tell her and I cast a _Muffilato_ spell on this room so that she can't hear us."

"How did you know?" Jean gasped.

"I knew her birth mother. I recognised Hermione immediately. I had the…Ahem, privilege of teaching Hermione's birth parents also. Hermione is the spitting image of her mother when she was that age. I won't be the only one to notice."

"But then…Hermione can't go." Her husband, Graham, looked at her in confusion, along with Dumbledore. "No, I'm sorry, she can't. We haven't told her! We can't run the risk of some stranger telling her!" Jean ordered resolutely.

"Mr and Mrs Granger, I assure you, no one would tell Hermione; that would serve no purpose, no one would profit from that."

Graham spoke. "But what if they just want to hurt Hermione?"

Dumbledore shifted. "I think I should start from the beginning. Hermione was born during a War. A War so great, that it split the Magical world in two. On one side were people like me and an organisation called the Order of the Phoenix. And then on the other side, were Hermione's parents. They were what we call 'Death Eaters', people who supported the war lord, Voldemort. He was defeated on Halloween in 1981. Most Death Eaters vanished after that night, but not Hermione's parents. They and several others continued doing the horrible things that they had done during Voldemort's power, and they were arrested and imprisoned for life shortly after. It was then that Hermione was removed from her aunt and uncle's home and taken to the muggle orphanage where you met and adopted her."

"And what about this aunt and uncle? What if they ever see her again?"

"They are known to be quite…Cold. But towards Hermione and their own son, anyone could see that they were soft at heart. Her aunt is her mother's sister, so her 'uncle' has no relation to her, but he loved her like she was his own daughter. You see, he and his wife had had quite a few problems conceiving their son and thus they will only ever have their one child. But her uncle confessed that he would have also loved a daughter – he needed a son to carry on the family name. And when Hermione was born, she became the daughter that he could never have. He wouldn't hurt her by revealing her true identity. And he is also very forward-thinking and concerned for his own benefit. Telling Hermione this secret wouldn't aid him in any way. No one will tell her anything. I promise you that."

"Okay, here's the tea!" Hermione abruptly arrived back into the room, making Dumbledore discreetly touch his wand to cancel the _Muffilato_. She put the tray down and sat down in-between her parents. "So when can I start your school?"

!"!

A few weeks later, Hermione and the Grangers were nervously walking down Diagon Alley, taking everything in. The strange shops, the unusual clothes, the odd choice of animals…But it was all so exciting! New shops, new clothes, new animals! As soon as they had pressed that final brick of the wall in the back area of the Leaky Cauldron, they had been transported to another world. An owl emporium, a joke shop, a robes shop, book shops, potions shops, broomstick shops…There was everything a witch or wizard could ask for!

Hermione so involved with everything, her head spinning from side to side as she tried to look at everything and anything, that she didn't see the man walking towards her until she bumped into him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

"Watch where you're going, child!"

Hands held her upper arms firmly and pushed her away from a body. As she looked up, she trembled a little in fear as she saw a very tall, imposing man glare down at her. He was handsome but his sharp facial features were twisted into a snarl. His long blonde hair was tied back with a black ribbon and his clothes were so immaculate that Hermione knew she had ruined them by bumping into him. But then something changed. After he looked at her, his face softened. He didn't smile; he just looked blankly down at her. He let go of her arms.

"Yes, well, just watch where you're going from now on, girl." He walked past her abruptly. She watched him walk, particularly fascinated by his cane. Who walked with a cane nowadays? Shrugging it off, she spotted her parents and hurried over to them.

!"!

"Narcissa." Said woman craned her head around and smiled as her husband entered Madame Malkins' Shop for Robes. She was getting her son fitted with only the finest robes and clothes for Hogwarts. She was about to open her mouth to greet him when he spoke again. "I've found her."

Narcissa frowned in confusion. "Whomever do you mean, Lucius?"

"Hermione. I came across her, quite literally, on my way here."

She frowned. "Dear, are you sure it was her? There must be a dozen girls out there that-"

"Yes, it was her! She has Rodolphus' eyes and looks exactly how Bellatrix looked when she was that age! It _was_ Hermione!"

Narcissa's already pale face paled even further. "What? Is she alright? Who was she with?"

Lucius held her arms as she became flustered, drawing the attention of the shop girl who was measuring their son. He gently but firmly escorted her across the shop and into a quiet corner. "Yes, she looked fine. She was healthy and happy, without a care in the world." He pulled her into his arms as she gave a small sob in relief, happy that her only niece and the girl she had once thought of as her own daughter was alive. He allowed her to clutch at him for a minute or so before clearing his throat and gently extracting her from his arms. "Now dear, we need to be strong now. All that matters is that she is alive and well. She looked very happy so we can assume that she is being well looked after by whoever it is that has her. We have no cause for immediate concern."

"But _who_ has her? Who are they? How long have they had her? Does she know about us? About her parents?"

"Narcissa, you're becoming emotional." He scolded. She sniffed and straightened up, nodding bravely. "I will investigate everything, I promise. Until then, we need to keep a clear head."

She nodded again before putting on a brave face and returning to their son, Lucius following. She smiled as she saw her son in his robes. "Draco darling, you look wonderful."

!"!

They paid for the robes and had them sent to their estate, Malfoy Manor before heading back out into Diagon Alley and heading for the Flourish and Blotts bookshop. Narcissa handed Lucius Draco's book list for school before heading off into the shop to search for her own books.

"Come, Draco." Lucius escorted his son up onto the first floor of the shop, instructing him on what books to look for. They successfully gathered all of the books, Lucius charming them to float beside him instead of carrying them like everyone else. "Do you want anything else, Draco?"

"No, father."

"Very well, let us head down…Stairs…" He trailed off.

Draco frowned. His father never trailed off! Looking in the direction his father was, his frown deepened when he saw his mother talking to a girl his age. She had light brown bushy hair and was holding three books in her arms, close to her chest, like children. Another thing; his mother was smiling at her. Truly smiling. The smile that he had only ever seen her show to him or his father. "Father? Who is that girl?"


	5. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 3**

Draco frowned. His father never trailed off! Looking in the direction his father was, his frown deepened when he saw his mother talking to a girl his age. She had light brown bushy hair and was holding three books in her arms, close to her chest, like children. Another thing; his mother was smiling at her. Truly smiling. The smile that he had only ever seen her show to him or his father. "Father? Who is that girl?"

!"!

Hermione was diving in between the shelves looking for any and all books that may interest her. So far she had three about basic spells and potions. She'd even found one on something called Ancient Runes. She didn't really understand it but she gathered that it was a language used thousands of years ago. Probably a bit too in-depth for her but she would give it a go anyway. As she flipped through one of the basic spells books, she encountered something hard yet soft, dropping her books. A person. Again.

"Goodness! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"No, no, that's alright." A soft voice replied. A woman. She knelt down elegantly and helped Hermione gather her books, handing them to her with a smile. She was beautiful. Striking, really. The smile she wore with ease reached all the way to her light blue eyes that shone as they regarded her closely. What Hermione found puzzling was the fact that the top half of her hair was a deep brown, possibly black, whilst the bottom half was a blinding blonde. Was that natural? No, couldn't be!

"I didn't mean to bump into you, I swear!"

"It's alright, child." She smiled. "What were you reading so closely?"

"Um…" Hermione turned the book around so Narcissa could see the cover. "Basic spells. I start my first year at Hogwarts in September so I thought I'd start now."

"That's a good idea. Do you know any spells now?"

"Only a few simple ones. I don't want to cause any accidents! And the professor who came to my house told me that students aren't allowed to do magic outside of school."

"Yes, that's right." She paused. "Have you travelled far to come here?" _Was she local or did she live far away? Then they could track down the orphanage, maybe get copies of Hermione's records, to determine who had her and for how long—_

"Not really, I live near Hampstead so it wasn't that far to come. My parents, Jean and Graham, are downstairs talking to a shop assistant because they still don't understand this world's currency."

'_This world's currency'? So she hadn't grown up in the Magical world…A muggle orphanage…_

"Your parents, what do they do in the world?"

"They're both dentists with their own practice surgery. Oh sorry! People told me you might not know what that is! They're doctors that tend to people's teeth." She explained proudly.

"Is that a respectable job?"

"Oh, yes! That's why they have their own practice!" Narcissa nodded as if she understood. "Did you go to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I did. I was in Slytherin."

Hermione frowned. "Slithering?"

Narcissa smiled at her niece's naivety. "No, dear, Slytherin. Hogwarts has houses that you are sorted in to. There's Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

"Is Slytherin a good house?"

"The best." Narcissa gave her a conspiratorial wink. Hermione laughed. "Now, dear, I have to go. Take care of yourself?"

"You too." They shook hands and parted ways.

!"!

As Narcissa walked away from Hermione, she forced herself to hold back her tears. Bellatrix would have been so proud of her daughter! Grown up and so smart! If only she were allowed to tell Bellatrix that…Azkaban now forbade Bellatrix and Rodolphus from having visitors seeing as they had been so close to the Dark Lord. Neither were they allowed letters or Floo calls or any other kind of communication with the outside world. She made her way over to her husband and son.

Lucius hissed, "Narcissa, what are you playing at?!"

Ignoring her husband, she took Draco's shoulders firmly and looked him in the eye. "Draco, I need you to do something. I need you to watch that girl for me."

"But why?"

"Don't ask questions, Draco, just do as you're told please!" She cried, giving him a little shake.

Draco had never seen his mother so disturbed by something. Going against his instinct, he nodded. "Very well, mother. I'll watch her for you."

She nodded and straightened up. "Home, I think, Lucius."

!"!

Three weeks later, Narcissa was pacing Lucius' study as he perused the file that a contact within the Ministry had secreted away to him. As his eyes moved from left to right across the pages, Narcissa's feet followed a similar pattern. A new line, stalk from the fireplace to the sofa, new line, head back to the fireplace, new line, back to the sofa, new line, back to the fireplace. The few sounds in the room, lit only by the large fireplace and a complex candle stand resting on Lucius' desk, were the crackle of the wooden logs as they were digested by the fire, the soft turning of pages as Lucius read and the clicking of Narcissa's shoes as she paced. Eventually Lucius sighed.

"Narcissa, please sit down. You're going to wear a line in the floor."

"But who are they, Lucius?!" She snapped at him. "Who are these people? What are they like? Where do they live? What do they do? How many friends do they have?"

Lucius frowned. "I will tell you, Narcissa…If you sit down!"

She sighed and complied, sitting down wearily on the sofa, yet doing it with such grace it looked as if she had floated down like a feather. "Well?"

He closed the file and leant back in his high-backed armchair. "Everything checks out." He rubbed his eyes tiredly.

She stood up and approached the desk, taking the file into her manicured hands. "What? What do you mean?"

"When Hermione was removed from our home-"

"Surely you mean 'kidnapped'?" She snapped as she read the file.

"Yes, dear." He agreed wearily, not wanting an argument. "After she was 'kidnapped', her memories were all but erased and she was placed immediately in the Hilton Home for Girls in November 1981. However, she wasn't there long as she was introduced to Dr Jean and Dr Graham Granger in early December the same year. The Grangers had tried for children for three years before being told that they were both infertile and their chances of conceiving, even with medical aids, were miniscule. Only two weeks after Hermione started living with them, they filed for adoption and it was granted within forty-eight hours. Unfortunately though…"

Narcissa looked away from the pictures of Hermione that were in the file. One was of when she was first admitted into the orphanage, still wearing the same moon pyjamas that she had worn the night her parents had been arrested. Another was her and the Grangers on her fifth birthday. She was grinning madly, her two front teeth missing, before a large birthday cake which held five pink candles. A third with her standing by herself on a beach, appearing to be around eight years old. And the fourth was on her tenth birthday a year ago.

"What? What is unfortunate?"

Lucius sighed again. "That orphanage was specifically chosen because the owner is a Squib relative of a Ministry worker. When Hermione's adoption came through in the muggle world, the orphanage owner owled the Ministry and informed them."

"So? What does that matter? It's only in the muggle world."

"No, Narcissa, it isn't."

Her heart stopped and her stomach twisted, knowing where this was going. "What do you mean?"

"When the Ministry heard that Hermione had become Hermione Granger in the muggle world, they completed the necessary paperwork for this world too."

"So…You're saying that-"

"Hermione is now Hermione Jane Granger. In both the muggle world, and ours."

"But…But Bella-"

"Bellatrix is no more her mother now than a surrogate would have been, Narcissa! We've lost her, Narcissa."


	6. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 4**

_January 1996_

Bellatrix Lestrange crouched in a corner of her six by six foot cell in Azkaban. Her once curvaceous and voluptuous body had withered due to fifteen years of prison life, malnutrition, beatings from guards, distance from everyone she knew and the knowledge that she had no idea where her one and only child was. Rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, Bellatrix mumbled her thoughts aloud. How long had it been now? Was 5,204 days? Or was it 5,205? Did it even matter? What time is it? Again, did that matter? I wonder what's for dinner…Or have we had that? Or was that breakfast? What's Rodolphus doing? Is he thinking about me? Probably not. Is he thinking about her? He had better be! I think about her! Where is she? Who is she with? Is she at Hogwarts? Or Beauxbatons? Or is she with some filthy muggles?! Is she even alive? She had better be!

For a moment, her Dark Mark gave a little twinge. But it did that sometimes. Not thinking, Bellatrix ran her tongue from the crook of her elbow to the tip of her middle finger, confused on why she even did that. But never mind that! Was what that noise from outside? It wasn't the ordinary crashing of waves that she could hear through the bars in her cell. It sounded like…Blasts. Speaking of which. The wall nearest to the outside of the building blasted in on itself, spraying some pieces of rock over Bellatrix, though she didn't even seem to notice. Standing up shakily, she wobbled to the now open space and began cackling loudly. Taking a few moments to laugh until her sides hurt, she paused as her thoughts quickly reorganised themselves.

"Don't worry, honey, I'm coming. Mummy's coming!"

!"!

"Thank you very much for meeting me, I really appreciate it." Hermione spoke respectfully, sitting down in an unusual – for her, anyway – lady-like fashion in the chair opposite a Ministry worker. Mr Ivan Rabbs scrutinised her closely for a moment before sitting down. She was dressed in a smart dress, that whilst it looked very elegant and professional, she was clearly unused to wearing dresses. Her bushy hair was pinned up in a bun at the nape of her neck and she had even put on some make-up.

As he righted himself in his chair, he spoke as he picked up a quill and jotted notes in his appointment book. "Yes, yes, Miss Granger. What can I do for you today?"

"Well…I'd like to see my birth certificate and records."

His quill snapped and he paused. "Why would you want to do that, Miss Granger?" He asked cautiously.

She paused herself before clearing her throat. "My parents – that is to say, Dr and Dr Granger in the muggle world – told me that they adopted me as an infant-"

He cut across sharply. "Then you would need to speak to someone in the muggle world."

"Yes, but they also told me that when Professor Dumbledore came to our house to inform them that I'm a witch, that he knew I was adopted straight away and that he knows who my real parents are!" She explained desperately.

"Well then I must insist that you speak to Professor Dumbledore." He stood up. "If that is all, Miss Granger-"

For one of the first times in her life, Hermione knew she had to be rude. "No!"

Mr Rabbs visibly blanched. "I beg your pardon!"

"I'm sorry if I'm being rude, Mr Rabbs, but I-I must insist that you find my birth certificate and any and all documents relating to me. The Grangers told me that I was born to a magical family and that, for some reason, I was removed from their care. Now I insist-"

"Miss Granger, this is hardly an appropriate time for this!"

"Then when would be 'appropriate'?"

"When there hasn't been a break-out at Azkaban!" He burst out. When he had finished his sentence, he scolded himself. Sighing tiredly, he spoke in a calmer tone. But she interrupted him.

"Sorry sir but…What does an Azkaban break-out have to do with my biological parents?"

!"!

At Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix glared at her arm in the shower, rubbing back and forth, adding more soap to the cloth as she tried to scrub off the years and years of dirt from Azkaban. Was her skin really that pale? Or had she whittled her arm down to the bone? No, a freckle. Or was that just more dirt? Scrubbing that until it bled, she concluded that it was actually a freckle and she had reached her skin at last. This had been her fifth shower in two days and she still felt the dirt and grime of prison marring her body. At least she had eaten a good meal, the first for fifteen years. Some meat and vegetables. Real meat, too. Looking at herself in the mirror, she nodded to herself as she saw that all the dirt had finally gone. And that she really needed to put some weight on – ribs poking out against her skin was not the sign of a strong fighter.

A knock sounded on the door. "Come in!" She rasped, her voice cracked from disuse.

The door opened and Narcissa stepped through, only slightly bothered about seeing her sister's skeletal naked body. "How are you feeling?" Bellatrix glared at her. "Aside from everything. Do you feel better than you were yesterday?"

"Everything feels better than yesterday, Narcissa." She responded, taking the black cotton bathrobe that her sister offered and pulling it on herself. Oh, such soft material! And clean!

"Would you like to share a room with Rodolphus? Or…"

Bellatrix frowned at her. "We haven't been in the same room for fifteen years, Narcissa. Of course I'd like to see him."

The blonde nodded. "I'll let him know."

She turned to leave when Bellatrix's voice stopped her. "Lucius tells me that you spoke to her."

"Who?" She knew who.

She whispered sadly, "Hermione." Neither of them said anything for a moment. "How was she?" She mustn't cry! She hadn't cried in fifteen years, she wasn't going to now!

"She was beautiful. And smart and funny. With Rodolphus' eyes and your looks." _'Keep the tears back, keep them back!' _"You'll be so proud of her." With that, Bellatrix cried. For the first time in fifteen years, Bellatrix Lestrange cried. Tears she hadn't known she had streamed down her gaunt face as Narcissa quickly pulled her into a tight embrace.

"My baby! They took my baby!" She wailed into her younger sister's shoulder.

"I know." Narcissa cooed. "I know they did. But we'll get her back. I promise you, Bella, we _will_ get her back!"

!"!

How long does it take to find a file! Hermione sat impatiently in the chair in Rabbs' office as she waited for him to come back from the Hall of Records. He'd left twenty minutes ago and she was quickly losing her patience. Which was a hard thing for Hermione to do. She'd instructed Ron on Potions, for Merlin's sake! Drumming her fingers on the arms of the chair and looking around the office, she huffed. After his outburst and her question, Mr Rabbs had sighed, politely asked her to sit back down and told her that he would go and search for her file. That was twenty-two minutes ago! Just as she was about to stand up and leave, the door opened and Mr Rabbs entered the room, a red file in his hands.

"I'm sorry about the wait, Miss Granger."

"Not all." She brushed off. "So is that it? That's my file?"

He sighed and shifted in his seat, placing the file in front of him. "I will try to explain this, Miss Granger. You are not the first teenager to come in here and ask for their records." That didn't surprise Hermione so she waited for him to continue. "Once you know…There's no going back. You can't…Un-know something! You can still leave."

"I don't want to leave, I want to know." She said firmly.

He sighed and picked up the file. "Very well." Hermione took the folder and saw that it held her name on it. "When you were legally adopted by the Grangers, we changed the name. Your real birth certificate is inside the flap."

Hermione opened the folder and turned it around so she could read it. And immediately wished she hadn't.

_Hermione Narcissa Lestrange_

_Born: 19__th__ September 1979_

_Weighed: 7lb, 4oz._

_Mother: Bellatrix Lestrange, née Black_

_Father: Rodolphus Lestrange_

_Born at: Malfoy Manor_

_NOTE: Removed from Lestrange care after their arrest._

Her parents were the Lestranges? Holy cricket…

"I didn't want you to see that, Miss Gr…Lestrange. Because…Your parents…They were among the prisoners that broke-out of Azkaban yesterday." Hermione looked up, her eyes filled with tears. "And there isn't a doubt in my mind that they _will_ come for you. I'm so sorry, Miss Lestrange."


	7. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 5**

"How did you know?"

Professor Dumbledore stood on top of the Astronomy Tower, looking out over the grounds of Hogwarts as a soft voice sounded behind him. Turning, he smiled when he saw Hermione Granger standing on the other side of the large metal artwork in the middle of the room. "Pardon?"

"How did you know who I am?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, I'm not-"

"My parents told me. They told me that when you came to see me before my first year here, you told them that you knew I wasn't their daughter. That you knew I was adopted." He blanched. "They also said that you didn't want me to know _because of_ who they are. My real parents. But of course, me being me, knowing that you didn't want me to know…I had to find out. After all, how bad could they be? So I…I went by the Ministry." By this time, there were tears in her eyes. "The Lestranges? Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange are my parents? How…How did that even happen? Why was I in an orphanage? Why am I not a Pureblood supremacist by now?"

"Miss Granger, surely you know that the Lestranges are in Azkaban?"

"Yes, I know that!" She cried. "But why was I placed into a _muggle_ orphanage?!"

He sighed. "It was the night that the Lestranges and Barty Crouch Jr tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom. They had put into a place a contingency plan in the event of their capture. If they were arrested, you were to be housed with the Malfoys. So you stayed with them until the Lestrange's trial. When they were found guilty and sentenced to life in Azkaban, the Ministry decided that you could become a danger to the Wizarding world if you were to remain with the Malfoys. And before you say anything, I was and still am inclined to agree. If you hadn't been removed from Malfoy Manor, in all probability you would have become, as you said, a 'Pureblood supremacist', possibly having to take the Dark Mark too. If you hadn't lived with the Grangers for all these years and been raised in a good home with morals and values, then you would not be the person you are today."

She paused again. "So how did you know? My parents told me that you knew who I was the moment you saw me."

He sighed for a second time. "You have your father's eyes. But I knew who you were because you were the spitting image of your mother when she had been your age. Also your name and age was a clue." He actually smiled briefly before letting his face turn serious again. "Hermione, I can only tell you the historic details. I urge you to talk to Professor Snape."

She scoffed. "Why would I do that? What could he tell me?"

"Before their arrest, Professor Snape knew the Lestranges quite well. Rodolphus actually wanted him to be your godfather. But of course Bellatrix didn't approve."

She thought it over before nodding reluctantly.

!"!

A series of knocks landed on the wooden door of the Potions classroom. Snape grumbled to himself before marching over to it and yanking it open. Hermione stood in the doorway, her hands holding the straps of her bag nervously.

"What, Miss Granger?"

She stammered. "Professor Dumbledore said I should talk to you."

"Concerning?"

"My biological parents."

He visibly faltered. "Come in, Miss Granger." As she did so, he returned to his desk and sat back down at it. "Close the door." She complied. "Sit." He pointed to the desk directly in front of his. She did that too. "How long have you known?"

"Yesterday. I mean, I've known I was adopted since-"

"How did you find out?"

"My par-…The Grangers told me. Professor Dumbledore told them when he came to see me about me being a witch. Then when they found out that there's a war going on in the Wizarding world…They thought I should know."

He scoffed. "So what is it you wish to discuss with me?"

She hesitated. She didn't really know… "Professor Dumbledore said that he could only tell me the historical details. Not the…Personal ones. And that was when he suggested that I talk to you."

Snape sighed and rubbed his temples. "I ask again. What is it you wish to know? Also bear in mind that I do not know every single detail."

Hermione hesitated. "Why…Why was I even born? I mean, Bellatrix Lestrange hardly seems the maternal type."

He reclined in his chair. "At first she wasn't. To be truthful, she was convinced that she was going to have a termination. It wasn't that the Dark Lord prohibited children, He encouraged it, even. But the Dark Lord forbade her termination, no one knows why; He had never done it before. So she had accepted that, although she wasn't happy about it. But at some point in her pregnancy, she had decided that having a child – having _you_ – might not have been the end of the world. So she had you. Whilst she was still the cruel ruthless Death Eater that she always had been, when she was with you…She was, you could say, a perfect mother. And Rodolphus was the perfect father. They took care of you, read to you, sang to you, played with you…Everyone could see that they adored you."

It was Hermione's turn to scoff. "I doubt that very much, Sir."

Snape scowled and stood up.

"Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange may be cruel people, Miss Granger, and there is not a lot about them that is known to be true, but there is one thing I _can_ be sure of. When Bellatrix was on trial, she sat in the chair as if it were her throne. She was cool and collected throughout the whole experience. The only time she faltered or showed any other emotion apart from pride was when you were brought into it. That was when she started kicking and screaming for you to be returned to her. I was permitted to see her shortly after her and Rodolphus' imprisonment. She was so hysterical that they had had to chain her up in her cell and gag her when she screams continued all day and all night.

"Before the trial, she'd informed me that if she were to be found guilty, then she would go to Azkaban with her head held high. But a few weeks later, she'd become so much a shell of herself that I hardly recognised her. She'd resigned herself to her fate. Her fate of never seeing you again. In the meantime, Rodolphus became angry. At everything. He whispered to me that he had almost regretted becoming a Death Eater, for if he hadn't, he would have been able to raise you. As I said, not a lot is known about the Lestranges. But I do know this." He leant over the desk that Hermione was sitting at.

"They. Loved. You." He straightened up. "Think on that what you will. But get out first."


	8. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 6**

"Hermione?" Harry asked as he and Ron entered the Gryffindor common-room. She was sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace, a book open in her lap as she stared into the fire, watching it dance and twist before her eyes. As the boys drew closer, they saw that it was the same book on the same page as it had been when they'd left for Quidditch practice. Three hours ago. Why was she still on the same page? Had she been distracted…No, this was Hermione – distraction was not a word she knew.

With vacant eyes, she looked up at them. "Good afternoon, boys."

"Mione, it's seven o'clock." Ron said slowly.

That seemed to wake her up. "But you've missed Quidditch practice! Harry, you're the captain; you need to set an example!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Harry placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, we've been to Quidditch practice. For the past three hours."

"Oh..."

"Hermione, are you alright? You've been distracted for a few days now."

Ron sat in the armchair to the side of the sofa, leaning forward worriedly. "Yeah, is anything wrong?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"You know, if you're worried about the OWLs, you should tell someone, you shouldn't keep it bottled up!"

She smiled at them tiredly and sat up, closing her book. She opened her mouth but then closed it. She couldn't tell them. What would they say? "I suppose our OWLs are a little daunting…"

"Yeah, they are! See, feels good, doesn't it?" Ron grinned. She smiled back. "Come on, we'll get some food down you. Charms exam tomorrow."

!"!

Hermione surprisingly felt much better the next day. Harry and Ron had asked the girls in her dormitory to make sure she had a full night's rest after they had made sure that she had eaten a full meal. She sat with them at breakfast and helped herself to a second half of grapefruit after two rounds of whole-wheat toast with light and fluffy scrambled eggs. Meanwhile, the boys scoffed themselves with full English breakfasts. She smiled to herself in spite of them. Today was going to be a good day!

!"!

She scribbled down her answers to the questions of their Charms OWL exam as she whizzed through the test. Harry was behind her and Ron was in front. She didn't know how the black-haired boy was coping but the ginger was doing a lot of sighing and looking around the room. Not so good, she guessed. He'll be fine, she was sure.

Faintly, she heard a banging sound. Paying it no mind, she continued with her exam. Again, a bang. This time louder. A few people turned around but then turned back. The third bang made the toad like Professor Umbridge huff indignantly and march down the Great Hall to the doors. They magically opened for her and she stood out in the foyer, looking around. By this point, everyone had turned around and were watching what was happening. Hermione was quite a way back from the entrance, but she swore she could see a little flying ball of sparks hover around Umbridge. It flew into the Great Hall, flew up into the arches of the ceiling and then exploded! From then on, you could only hear laughs and cheers as the Weasley twins flew into the Hall on their broomsticks, throwing similar inventions throughout the room, scattering exam papers everywhere.

"Ready, Fred?"

"Ready, George!" The lit a large firework and everyone watched as it transformed into a large dragon made of fire. Umbridge could only muster a few whimpering sounds as the dragon set its sights on her and started towards her, making her totter away as fast as she could. Everyone laughed as this happened, the dragon catching up to her as she made it into the foyer, snapping at her with its jaws and sending shockwaves through the room, sending all of her educational decrees from the walls and crashing onto the floor around her.

"Come on, Mione!" Ron cried, taking hold of her hand and leading her from the Great Hall along with the other students, out into the main courtyard outside. Everyone looked up at the sky, watching and cheering as the twins let off dozens upon dozens of fireworks, the sparks performing for their eyes as they exploded into rainbows of colours. No one noticed Harry pale and fall to the floor, breathing heavily and staring ahead of him. Hermione looked around, seeing one of her best friends on the floor. Crouching down in front of him, she touched his hand gently.

"Harry?"

"Sirius! He has Sirius!"

!"!

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna and Neville ran through the Ministry corridors, Harry leading the way to the Department of Mysteries where Voldemort supposedly had Sirius. Hermione had been sceptical, reasoning that Voldemort could be pushing an image into Harry's mind to draw him out. Though of course, when Harry thought one of his friends or family was in danger, nothing could stop him. The black marble corridors stretched on and on, seemingly never-ending until they came to a black polished door with a large silver handle. Harry glanced back at his friends, who all nodded, and turned back, opening the door. It was pitch black inside, making all six of them cast a Lumos with their wands, but even the combined light didn't do much; the room they were in was enormous. And filled with stacks and stacks of crystals balls. Harry looked around resolutely, determined not to be put off by the size of the room, heading off into the stacks.

Hermione kept a sigh in her chest as she followed them. Looking around the shelves, she looked right. Nothing. She looked left…And she paused. Her heart leapt into her throat. At the end of one of the shelves…Was that a figure? No, couldn't be…They were the only people there, all the Ministry workers had gone home. Hadn't they? Shaking her head, she pressed on. Never seeing the figure follow in the same direction.

"Harry!" Neville called out. "This…It's got your name on it!"

They all formed a circle around Harry, gathering where a row and column of shelves made a small space. Harry cautiously picked up a small tennis ball sized sphere and listened whilst it spoke. _'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches; And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal; But he shall have a power the Dark Lord knows not; For neither can live whilst the other survives'._

Hermione turned her head again, feeling as if they were not alone. And she was right. Two dozen foot away hovered a silver mask, its body hidden in the shadows. "Harry!"

Everyone turned their heads in caution, seeing the silver mask approaching them slowly, its footsteps heavy on the metal floor. As the figure drew within the range of their Lumoses, their body was revealed, showing them to be completely adorned in black leather and light weight robes. Everyone had a chilling feeling who this person could be, or represent. But their thoughts were made real by a cold voice. A voice they all knew.

"You know, you should learn to tell the difference between dreams…" Lucius Malfoy stepped forward out of the shadows, using his wand to remove his mask, which floated away like smoke into the air, "And reality." Everyone tensed, but Hermione almost shed a tear as her _uncle_ revealed himself for who he truly was. "You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see. Now hand me the prophecy."

Harry raised his chin in an attempt to look brave. "If you do anything to us, I'll break it!"

A shrill cackle rang through the room, making everyone shudder. "He knows how to play!" Hermione blinked her tears away as her real mother stepped into the light, screeching away. How could she come from…That?! Things were going to get…Interesting.


	9. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 7**

**A/N: Long because a lot of it isn't mine! :P**

!"!

"You know, you should learn to tell the difference between dreams…" Lucius Malfoy stepped forward out of the shadows, using his wand to remove his mask, which floated away like smoke into the air, "And reality." Everyone tensed, but Hermione almost shed a tear as her _uncle_ revealed himself for who he truly was. "You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see. Now hand me the prophecy."

Harry raised his chin in an attempt to look brave. "If you do anything to us, I'll break it!"

A shrill cackle rang through the room, making everyone shudder. "He knows how to play!" Hermione blinked her tears away as her real mother stepped into the light, screeching away. How could she come from…That?! Things were going to get…Interesting. Bellatrix walked forward, swaying slightly as if she were drunk, until she came level with Lucius, who looked at her in – most people would say – annoyance. Obviously he thought she was going to cause problems. "Itty bitty baby…Potter." She spat his name.

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Neville stated, stepping forward as he looked like his heart was being ripped out.

"Neville Longbottom, is it?" She snickered. "How's mum and dad?"

"Better now they're about to be avenged!" He raised his wand quickly, as did Bellatrix, obviously being the more skilled Duellist. Hermione whispered, 'No!' and held his arm, pulling it down to the floor to stop him getting himself killed. But as she looked back up, the way Bellatrix looked at her…It made her think that Bellatrix assumed she had done it out of loyalty to her mother.

Lucius tensed slightly, slowing raising his hands. "Now, let's everybody just…Calm…Down…" His voice…If the situation weren't so dire, Hermione would have almost listened to him. The smoothness of it made her want to just curl up in it…Wait, he's her uncle! Her evil Death Eater uncle! Her evil Death Eater uncle who will no doubt harm her friends! "Shall we?" He finished off as he bobbed his hands up and down slightly. After Bellatrix had sulkily lowered her wand, Lucius explained. "All we want is that prophecy."

"Why did Voldemort need me to come and get this?"

Bellatrix's face erupted in anger. "You dare speak his name? You filthy half-blood!" She screamed, her voice echoing around the room. Hermione flinched. How could _that_ be her mother?

"No, it's alright, he's just a curious lad, aren't you?" Lucius soothed. "Prophecies can only be retrieved by those about whom they are made." Neville, Hermione, Ron, Luna and Ginny looked around in alarm. Out of nowhere, two Death Eaters had appeared on the three remaining sides of the group, enclosing them in the small space. Hermione pointed her wand at the two who were facing them. But Hermione had this feeling…This horrible squeezing in her stomach, that one of the Death Eaters was looking straight at her. She could feel it. She didn't need to see it. Was it Rodolphus perhaps? Was he even here?

"Haven't you always wondered about the reason for the connection between you and the Dark Lord?" Lucius asked Harry as he and Bellatrix advanced on them. Hermione desperately tried to stay brave. She didn't want to take her eyes off the two Death Eaters opposite her, but she felt another gaze on her. Biting her trembling lip, she risked a quick glance. It was Bellatrix, studying her intensely from under her thick eyelashes, not blinking as the distance between them shortened. She looked back at 'her' Death Eaters. They were closer now. "Why he was unable to kill you when you were just an infant?" Risking another glance as the stare intensified, Hermione turned again and saw Bellatrix and Lucius now only a few feet away and Bellatrix was now gawping at her openly, her face consumed by an open mouthed smile. Was Bellatrix happy? Or…What else could that smile be? It seemed to be genuine…Was it?

"Don't you want to know the secret of your scar?" Lucius teased, holding his hand out. "All the answers are there, Potter, in your hand. All you have to do is give it to me. Then I can show you everything."

Harry looked between the prophecy and Lucius. "I've waited fourteen years…"

Lucius gave a look of sympathy. "I know."

"I can wait a bit longer."

They knew that was their cue. Pushing their fear down, everyone cast a Stupefy simultaneously, though they were easily blocked by the Death Eaters, who vanished in pillars of smoke. That was when Hermione felt it, only for a split second. A warm wash of magic over her. What was that? What had happened? She'd never felt that before…It was comforting, making her feel like she was snuggled up in bed or being embraced. Those feelings were made by…Protection spells. Who would cast…Bellatrix? Bellatrix risked her title as a Death Eater by casting a Protection spell on the best friend of Harry Potter? What if Voldemort ever found out?

She didn't have time to think when Ron took hold of her hand and pulled her along after them, running through the shelves. They made a turn and ran again, stopping when Lucius appeared in front of them in a pillar of black smoke, holding his hand out. He looked like something out of a child's nightmare…They backed away and ran down a different row. But they became separated. Luna broke off. Neville broke off. Harry broke off. Ron stayed with Hermione, refusing to leave her. They ran to the end of a row and met up with Harry again, just as a smoke column appeared on either side of them. Harry cast a Stupefy, but the man just flew off again. Hermione and Ron both cast the same spell, though the man just waved them away like air. For one of the first times in her life, Hermione non-verbal spells to pull a couple of prophecies off the shelves and onto the man's head, breaking over his mask. He grunted in annoyance and then just blocked them away. They kept running until all six of them regrouped, bumping into each other.

From one side, a smoke column started heading towards them, gaining speed quickly. Ginny pointed her wand at it and calmly spoke, "Reducto." The spell hit with a flash of light. And the prophecy shelves began to collapse. Luna stayed rooted to the spot, transfixed as she watched the glass orbs tumble to the floor, needing Neville to pull her away. Harry ordered everyone back to the door and they ran as fast as they could. Running through the shelves until they found the door, Harry ran through it into the empty space below. When Neville had come through last, the door closed behind them as they all free-fell. Stopping only a foot above the ground, they fell onto it a second later, groaning and grunting as they got to their feet.

"Department of Mysteries…They got that bit right, didn't they?" Ron snapped sarcastically.

They stood on a large island made of rock, in the middle stood a huge archway, at least thirty foot tall. In the middle was…It was hard to describe…It was like a net sheet floating in the wind. "The voices…Can you tell what they're saying?" Harry asked, walking closer to it.

Hermione replied, "They aren't any voices, Harry. Let's go."

Luna spoke, "I can hear them too."

"Harry, it's an archway!" He wasn't listening. "Please, Harry!"

He turned and raised his wand to the ceiling. "Get behind me!"

Moving into a circle, it was only a second later when black smoke surrounded them from both sides, from top and bottom, from left and right, from everywhere! Hands grabbed Hermione surprisingly gently, bringing her back against a body. The smoke settled and the chamber became clear. Harry stood by himself in the middle, all his friends around him, all held by Death Eaters. Luna, Ginny and Ron were held by unknown Death Eaters, Bellatrix had Neville and a man had Hermione. But as she struggled against him and he held her jumper firmly yet not harshly, she knew him. By the way he looked at her, and his eyes. This man was Rodolphus Lestrange. This man was her father.

Laughs filled the chamber as Lucius approached Harry. "Did you actually believe, or were you truly naïve enough to think that _children_ stood a chance against us?" Bellatrix smirked at him. "I'll make this simple for you, Potter." He held out his hand impatiently. "Give me the prophecy now, or watch your friends die."

"Don't give it to him, Harry!" Neville encouraged, earning a shush from Bellatrix.

Harry looked torn for a second, before handing Lucius the sphere gravely. The blonde held it up triumphantly before a white flash of light came from behind them. He turned and came face to face with Sirius Black. "Get away from my godson." With a single thump, Lucius and the prophecy went flying. Transforming himself into a white smoke column, Sirius whizzed around the room, blasting Death Eaters against the walls. More columns joined him, revealing Tonks, Mad-Eye, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Remus Lupin. Hermione visibly breathed a sigh of relief, and was then released by Rodolphus. Tonks ran over to her, taking her arm and pulling her around the room, collecting Luna, Ginny, Ron and Neville.

They all watched the fight from behind the covers of rocks, torn between watching the duelling or the flying fight that Bellatrix was engaged in with Kingsley. Hermione focused on Harry and Sirius battling Lucius and Rodolphus. To her own horror, she found herself praying that Lucius and Rodolphus wouldn't be seriously injured! They were, after all, her family. But Harry and Sirius were her friends! She still cheered when Harry and Sirius won the duel, but then froze in horror as she watched in slow motion as the man she knew as Dolohov aimed his wand at Tonks. Tonks' back was turned, she had no idea. But Hermione was wrapped in a Protection spell – a strong one she knew – thanks to Bellatrix. Adrenaline overtook logic and she threw herself in front of Tonks.

Pain ripped through her body as she felt the skin on her chest and stomach tear and rip apart, bathing her in her own blood. Ginny screamed, which brought the attention of Tonks and May-Eye. And Bellatrix. Hermione was drifting into unconsciousness, but she knew a murderous look when she saw one. All she heard next was the Killing Curse. And then everything went black.


	10. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 8**

After Ginny had screamed as Hermione was hit, Rodolphus had turned and watched his only child fall to the floor and become drenched in her own blood. Before he could retaliate against Dolohov, he spied Bellatrix out of the corner of his eye and watched her kill her cousin Sirius Black. After she had, she saw Rodolphus help Lucius onto his feet, stumble over to Rabastan, Rodolphus' younger brother, and grab his arm before Apparating them all straight out of the room. Bellatrix had run back through the corridors to the main foyer, desperate to get back to Malfoy Manor and torture Dolohov for hurting her baby! As she was running for one of the Floos, she was hit by an incredibly weak Crucio. It only felt like getting a paper cut, nothing to fuss about, though the shock of it made her stumble and fall to the floor. Her Lord had arrived shortly afterward, duelling with the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die, giving Bellatrix the opportunity to Floo back to her sister's home.

After she'd arrived back, she'd come through in the main sitting room. Briefly looking around, she saw Narcissa serving Lucius, Rodolphus and Rabastan large brandies as they slumped into armchairs. Where was Dolohov? Hearing a voice from the next room, she stalked through; a predator searching for its prey. And she found it. Dolohov stood behind the bar of the cigar room, not bothering to get a glass before he put his dirty bloody lips to the rim of the brandy canter and took a large swallow before Bellatrix slammed the door closed, locking it wordlessly. Dolohov put down the brandy, having a sinking feeling what was about to happen next.

"Bella, I wasn't aiming for her…I swear…I wanted to hit that pink haired bitch! I swear!" He edged around the bar as Bellatrix drew closer, drawing her wand slowly from her robes, fingering it tauntingly. "It wasn't my fault! She got in the way!"

Something snapped inside her. How dare that bastard blame her baby for getting hit by one of his spells?! Lifting her wand, Bellatrix levitated the brandy canter from the bar and smashed it over Dolohov's head. He cursed loudly, trying to shield his head. She waved her wand again and a gin bottle smashed itself against the small of his back. Listening to him scream, she stopped with the final one – a vodka bottle straight across his cheek. He whimpered for a minute, expecting more.

The door burst open as Rodolphus, Rabastan, Lucius and Narcissa rushed into the room. Rodolphus ran straight to his wife. "What are you doing, Bella?!"

"He hit her!" She screeched, jabbing her wand at Dolohov, sending a Crucio through his system. "You saw it!"

"Yes, I did, Bella! But if the Dark Lord finds out about this-"

"Exactly, Bella," Dolohov spoke as she lifted the curse, "Listen to your husband, he knows best! Back down like the bitch you are."

Rodolphus continued, "-He'll just have to kill us both." He suddenly turned and punched Dolohov across the face. Watching the man go down, Rodolphus crouched over him, hitting him again. Every time Dolohov's head hit the floor with the force of the blows, it rebounded off the wood, inadvertently bringing itself back up to be hit again. Rodolphus got in a dozen or so hits, not even noticing how glass from the bottles became lodged in his knuckles.

"Rodolphus!" Lucius shouted through the chaos. The man actually paused and listened for a second. "The Dark Lord will not tolerate this! You must stop!"

"No, Rodolphu_sssss_, continue." Everyone froze as Voldemort entered the room, his robes billowing behind him like smoke. He seated Himself in a luxurious armchair, simply waiting for Rodolphus to recommence.

"Thank you, milord."

"Have your fun, for you will all be punished later. I promi_ssss_e."

!"!

Bellatrix sat on the edge of the bed in her room, leant forward with her head in her hands. Lucius had been tortured first, for breaking the prophecy. Then it had been her turn, for fleeing the scene quickly. After that, she had been given leave to return to her and Rodolphus' rooms, where she waited for his torture session to end. She rocked herself back and forth on the bed. How had this happened? Only an hour or so ago, she had been looking into the eyes of her child with wonder and pride. Her baby…She was so grown up now, fighting against Death Eaters for her friends. Granted, her friends were blood traitors and half-bloods but she had to admit that Hermione had been so brave during the whole ordeal, never once faltering, even using wordless magic! She hadn't been taught wordless magic until sixth year!

The bedroom door opened and she looked round. Rodolphus closed the door and leant against it, his body trembling with the after effects of a dozen Crucios. Bellatrix watched him as he shakily hobbled over to her side of the bed and sat down on it, tiredly lifting an arm and wrapping it around his wife. She leant into it, curling up against him. They stayed in silence for a while, allowing Rodolphus a chance to recover.

Bellatrix spoke softly. "We have to get her back, Roody. We have to."

"I know. And we will."

"We have to. She needs to be with us now."

"I promise you. We'll get her back. I promise."

!"!

Hermione drifted in and out of consciousness, her eyelids fluttering, allowing brief moments of light into her eyes. She was in the Hospital Wing. She recognised the ceiling. So she wasn't dead? Or was she? How long had she been there? Had the Protection spell worked? Or was she still dead? Voices hovered around her, her unable to tell which voice belonged to whom or where they were around her.

"_How bad are her injuries?"_

"_Her torso is in tatters, Albus."_ Dumbledore was there?

"_How bad?"_

"_The damage starts just above her right breast, curving left, around it and then back under, before continuing down until level with her hipbone. Another line underneath her left breast, straight across to meet the first line. A third line in a crescent moon shape in the lower left quarter of her abdomen."_

"_Good Heavens…"_

"_How did this even happen Albus?! I think I've seen this magical signature before but…"_

"_Nymphadora Tonks and Ginevra Weasley tell me that she was hit by an unknown curse from a Death Eater named Dolohov."_

"_Dolohov? Of course! I knew I recognised some of the scar patterns! I've seen this before, but…She should be dead…"_

"_She's a powerful girl."_

"_Power of the victim doesn't stop the damage from spells, Albus. She must have been wearing a Protection spell, or charm."_

"_Miss Granger doesn't believe in the use of charms. She says they're mere superstitions. Perhaps the Protection spell…"_

"_Well you can ask her when she wakes up. If she wakes up…"_

!"!

More than two days later, Hermione roused from her sleep. Looking around, she saw that she was still in the Hospital Wing. Was there anybody else there? Another look around. No one. She was alone. She looked back down at her body, pushing the blankets down. She gasped in horror as she saw that from the top of her breasts all the way down to the top of her hips was thickly bandaged, a light blood trail penetrating through the gauze, showing the lines of her wounds like a road on a map. She laid her head back and allowed herself to cry a little, rubbing the tears away when she heard the main doors open. Footsteps approached her and the curtain was pulled back, revealing Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger."

"Afternoon, Headmaster."

"How are you feeling?"

She sniffed sadly. "You mean besides the fact that I was fighting against my parents? That our people were injured? Or that I am now permanently disfigured?"

"Disfigured? No, no. Merely bearing the signs of your bravery." He explained. He always made things sounds better. "You remember the battle then?" She nodded. "Then surely you must know that no one before you has ever survived this curse?" She nodded. "Have you any idea why?"

She nodded again. "She protected me."

"Pardon?"

"Bellatrix. Just as the fight started, I felt a wash of magic over me. It made me feel…Safe. And warm."

They said in unison, "A Protection spell."

"She protected me. Even though we were fighting on the opposite sides…She risked her life for me. If anybody finds out…If Voldemort finds out that she helped me…"

"I know, Miss Granger."

Neither of them said anything for a while. "How are the others?" She asked.

"Coping. There were some casualties."

"Who?"

"Sirius Black. He was hit by the Killing curse only moments after you were struck yourself."

"Who? Who killed him?"

He sighed sadly and in that moment she knew. "Your mother did."


	11. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 9**

Jean Granger stood at the kitchen sink, her hands covered by rubber gloves as she washed the pots from her and her husband's dinner. As the doorbell rang, she heard her husband get up and call through 'I'll answer it!' faintly she heard the door open and footsteps accompanied by the closing of the door.

"Jean?" Her husband spoke softly.

"Yes, dear?" She asked absently as she placed a now clean plate on the drainage board.

"The Lestranges calling." Sang a happy female voice.

Jean's head whipped around and she dropped the bowl she was holding as she saw a woman in a black leather dress and long black curls standing next to her husband, who had a wand pressed into his neck by a man, also in black leather, with shaggy black hair and a closely trimmed beard. Behind them, she saw a man with long blonde hair, dressed once again in black leather in a similar design to the man threatening her husband. Also, a woman with half-blonde, half-brown hair. Unlike the others, she was the only one not wearing leather, choosing high quality robes instead.

Jean simply sighed and pulled the rubber gloves off. "Shall we sit down?"

!"!

"Alright, so here's what we want." Bella spoke as she paced the Grangers' living room. Jean and Graham were sitting on their two-seater sofa, Narcissa in one armchair and Rodolphus in another whilst Lucius stood next to their fireplace. "We want you to sign over all your legal rights of being Hermione's legal guardians, back to us." She said simply, as if she were asking to borrow a quill. "Then you can continue with your lives and that'll be that."

Graham looked at his wife, who simply stared at Bellatrix and she replied, "No."

Bellatrix paused whilst everyone else froze. "What did you say, muggle?" She hissed lowly.

"I said no. We're not giving her up."

Bellatrix looked at Rodolphus, who shrugged. "Let's try this again."

Jean smiled coldly. "Yes, let's."

Graham recognised the tone and whispered warningly, "Jean-"

"Shut up, Graham." Jean snapped, not taking her eyes off Bellatrix. "Why do you want her back so badly?" She asked in genuine confusion.

Rodolphus shot out of the armchair when Bellatrix lunged for Jean. "She's my baby, you filthy muggle!" She screamed, fighting against Rodolphus.

"No, she isn't." Jean said simply. "Just as you are not her mother. You haven't been her mother for thirteen years." She shrugged a shoulder as if that made Bellatrix see sense.

"Who conceived her?! Who carried her in their womb for nine months?! Who gave birth to her?!" Bellatrix screamed, her talons digging into Rodolphus' arms.

Jean sighed in mock disappointment. "Now I truly know you're not her mother. It doesn't matter who conceived her or whose body she came out of. Who was there for her? Who sang her to sleep when she was scared of the monsters in the closet? Or rubbed her tummy when she didn't feel well? We did." She gestured between herself and Graham. "Whereas you…You _chose_ to leave her, to be a sycophant to a murderer!"

Bellatrix shrieked in fury and Narcissa had to step in. "Bella! This isn't helping!" She said as she stood up, walking to stand in front of the Grangers. "Ms Granger-"

"Doctor."

Narcissa sighed. "Dr Granger. We are not enemies-"

Jean laughed coldly. "We're not? You're trying to take the child I have raised for thirteen years away from me and give her to that insane cow!" She nodded her head to Bellatrix, who lashed out again. "How does that not make us enemies?"

"We all want the best for Hermione." Jean gave a small nod. "That we can all agree on. We all want her to be happy."

Jean asked, "And she would be happy with her?" She tilted her head to Bellatrix.

"I'm her mother!"

Jean challenged, "What's her favourite meal? Her favourite colour? What books did you read to her when she was young?"

Bellatrix paused and allowed Narcissa to continue. The blonde sighed and held up the legal form in front of the Grangers. "Alright, I can see that we're not going to agree on this matter. For your sake, I am going to ask you one last time. Sign the consent form." She wiggled the form a little; in threatening or in persuasion, no one knew.

Jean glanced at Graham for the first time in minutes. Then they both looked at Narcissa and both responded, "No."

Narcissa sighed. "Lucius."

Said man stepped forward. "You know about us, don't you? What we are? What we have all done?" The Grangers nodded, not in the least bit afraid. "Then you will know that there are certain…Measures that we could take in order to _force_ you into doing what we ask?"

"Yes, we know." Graham agreed. "I'm sure you know all about those 'measures', Mr Malfoy."

"I am going to be honest with you both." He Accio'ed a dining-room chair over and sat down in it like a king in a throne. "Both my wife and I view Hermione almost as our own daughter. We struggled to conceive our only son and knew that he would be the only child we could ever have. But our niece was this beautiful little girl, with the biggest brown eyes that Merlin ever gave to anyone." His face had softened as he had said this. But all of a sudden, it hardened again and his eyes darkened. "We are all stubborn where Hermione is concerned and we all love her, so you could almost jest that she has three mothers and three fathers. Although…Only two of the people in this room have consciences. And the other four will do _whatever_ needs doing to have Hermione with them…Now; I would prefer that it didn't come to that, and I'm sure you would too. Simply sign this document and we'll leave and you can live in peace. However, if you should be…Difficult…The conscience lacking people in this room may get angry."

Jean raised her chin resolutely. "Thank you for that speech, Mr Malfoy, but I can tell you right now that-"

Lucius stood up from the chair, picking it up and moving it aside. "If you would, please." He said simply.

In three fluid motions, Rodolphus let go of Bellatrix, pulled his wand out and called out a silencing spell on the room. Narcissa walked to the curtains that looked onto the street and pulled them closed smoothly. Bellatrix grinned wickedly and pulled her crooked wand out, pointing it at Jean and spoke a Cruciatus curse gently. Jean's body immediately clenched and she let out a shriek as the spell ran up and down her body, only on a low intensity, though still enough to make her let out sounds of pain.

"Now normally when we do this to other couples," Lucius began to explain, leaning against the mantelpiece, "We torture the man. Men tend to have stronger wills – no offence intended, Narcissa, Bellatrix – and the woman can sometimes die before he gives in." Bellatrix released the spell, allowing Jean to stop twitching and flop back against the sofa. "However, you've made it very clear that your wife has the stronger will concerning Hermione. And she would; she sees Hermione as her child and a mother would do anything to protect her child." Bellatrix cast the spell again, this time harder. Jean let out another cry, not quite a scream. "So we already know that her will is like iron. So tonight, we shall test yours, Dr Granger." Graham watched in horror as his wife of more than twenty years convulsed before him. "Who do you love more? Your wife? Or your child that isn't truly your child?" Bellatrix released the spell.

"You see, women's brains are known to work differently to men's. Women are more emotionally based, whereas men are logical and rational." Bellatrix reapplied the Cruciatus, this time making Jean wail. "If you give a female gorilla a human child, it will cradle it and treat it as its own, forgetting all about the fact that the infant isn't hers." Bellatrix increased the strength, making Lucius pause in his torturous monologue when Jean screamed. "After a long enough time, though it still knows in its mind that the child isn't his, a male gorilla will start to treat the human child like any other gorilla child. But it won't feel as bad about giving it up." Lucius glowered threateningly at Graham as Bellatrix released the spell. "Because it knows that a human child doesn't belong with gorillas." Bellatrix applied a particularly hard bout of the spell, making Jean scream and throw herself off the sofa in agony.

Lucius tipped his head to the side in consideration. "Do you see?"


	12. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 10**

Hermione was released from the Hospital Wing a week later, after a strict regime of ten potions an hour. Exams had been postponed due to Voldemort's sudden reappearance, giving the world chance to semi-settle down before reapplying the pressure of exams. Exams had gone smoothly, no more practical jokes by ginger twins, no more Educational Decrees seeing as Dolores Umbridge had been removed from Hogwarts as Fudge had resigned. Their final exam had been a Charms practical. Ron's pencil hadn't quite turned into a whistle all the way, the blowhole being full of rubber, so its song had been very muffled. Harry's dancing tea cup, which had been successfully transformed from a stopwatch, had slipped on a drop of tea and cracked – though the examiner hadn't held it against him. And Hermione's poetry reciting quill had recited one of Shakespeare's sonnets flawlessly, if in a slightly scratchy voice.

All three of them heaved a sigh as they returned to the Gryffindor common room, sitting themselves down on the sofa in front of the fireplace. They shrugged off their robes and began chatting aimlessly, though Harry was still quiet over Sirius' death. Hermione was laden with guilt over the playboy's death too, feeling almost responsible for the fact that it had been her mother who had killed him. And Ron, with the emotional capacity of a piece of bread, simply tried to continue on as normal, not knowing what to do about his friends' melancholies.

They talked for a while before a loud thump sounded against one of the windows. Ron got up and opened the window, allowing a flustered owl to fly in and settle itself on a table.

"Oi, you stupid bird, this isn't the owlery!" He huffed. The owl hooted angrily at him before flying over the sofa, dropping a letter into Hermione's lap and flying back through the window. "What the hell was that about?"

"I'm not sure…" Hermione replied, opening the letter and unfolding the piece of parchment within.

'_Dear Miss Granger, would you kindly meet me in my office in the Ministry of Magic at your earliest convenience today? Regards, Ivan Rabbs.'_

"Who's Ivan Rabbs?" Harry asked as he read the letter over her shoulder.

'_I can't tell them, I can't…'_ "Uh…"

"Hi, guys!" Neville called as he entered the common room.

"Hello, Neville." Hermione replied, grateful for his interruption. Quickly standing up, she headed to her dormitory and started changing into some smart muggle office trousers and a blouse. Not knowing what to do with her hair, she used a spell to arrange it into a half ponytail. She kept her shoes on and headed back down through the common room. "I'll see you later."

"Hermione!" Harry called, jumping up and approaching her. For a second, he stood there awkwardly. "Um…You know, be careful."

She smiled. "Harry, I'm going to Professor Dumbledore's office to Floo straight to the Ministry and back again. I'll be fine."

"Well you'd best be." He joked. They stood awkwardly for a few more seconds before Harry pulled her into a quick hug, letting her go almost immediately. "Back before nightfall, you hear!"

"Yes, Harry." She smiled. "I'll be back soon."

!"!

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger." Dumbledore greeted, although slightly less cheery than he normally was. It was to be expected really, Voldemort was now officially back, safety measures were being put in place everywhere and several students' families had moved abroad and taken their children with them, thus causing paperwork and confusion through the school.

"Good afternoon, Professor." She replied, approaching his desk. "Professor, may I use your Floo?"

He looked up from his work. "Whatever for, Miss Granger?" She handed him the letter. As he read it through, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Do you know what this is concerning, Miss Granger?"

"No. But I've only ever visited Mr Rabbs regarding accessing my birth certificates."

He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Miss Granger, I would suggest that you do not go unaccompanied. This is a sudden note that Mr Rabbs clearly wrote in a hurry, less than a week after Voldemort reappeared in the public eye, your parents along with him."

When he said it like that…"Who should I go with? Yourself?"

"Unfortunately, Miss Granger, I'm rather busy for the moment. Perhaps you should delay this meeting?"

"But he's asking to meet in the Ministry. My parents couldn't step foot within ten miles of the Ministry without being arrested; surely they couldn't get in to the actual building?"

"Yes, I suppose…Very well, Miss Granger, you may go. Though if I do not hear from you within the hour, I will be coming down to the Ministry myself!" He threatened seriously.

"Of course, Headmaster, thank you so much!"

She took a handful of Floo powder from his grate and stepped into the fireplace. She called out her destination clearly and threw the powder down, the usual green flames erupting around her. A second later, she arrived at the Ministry and followed the constant throng of people over to the visitor's desk. Ever since Voldemort had returned, the Ministry had installed these desks – three for signing in and three for signing out. The idea being that no one can enter or exit without the Ministry's knowledge – when you sign the logbook and have your wand signature recognised, the desk workers cast a unique magical signature that changed daily over the entrants which allowed them to pass through the magical barrier that was now erected throughout the entire Ministry, save for the entrance atrium. And on the way out, the workers removed the signature. Theoretically fool proof.

A very bored looking girl, probably only a year or two older than her, sat behind an entrance desk.

"Hello and welcome to the Ministry of Magic," She said, obviously reciting it for the hundredth time that day, "What is the reason for your visit?"

"I'm Hermione Granger, here to see Mr Ivan Rabbs." She held out the letter.

The girl read it and touched her wand to the parchment. "Please sign in."

Hermione picked up the quill by the log book on the desk and wrote her name and signature. _'Don't some people have the most unusual names? Tristanella Bregle the tenth? Grantus Phlodoslere? Alfium Luscoy? Cryssna Ailfoma? Bizarre.'_

"Mr Rabbs' schedule is clear all day, Miss Granger, so you can go up whenever you'd like. Legal department, fourth floor, office number 418."

"Thank you." She made her way over to an elevator and stood in it along with half a dozen other people. "Fourth, please." She spoke softly to the elevator assistant. He gave a minute nod and the elevator swung around as it moved. They stopped at the second and third floors on the way but soon arrived at Hermione's destination. She thanked the man and stepped out into the cream marble corridor. Examining the number plates on the door, she saw that her destination was at the opposite end of the hall, meaning she wouldn't have to walk all the way down to where the corridor turned left and keep looking. She nodded to herself and started walking. And stopped abruptly. Three people came from the left and opened Rabbs' door without knocking, allowing Hermione to see into the room. Rabbs was sorting through papers on his desk, a blonde haired person sitting across from him, their long pale fingers stroking a…Cane? A silver headed cane? Carved into a snake's head? Belonging to a blonde? Lucius Malfoy. _Alfium Luscoy_…

But why would Lucius Malfoy, her uncle, be meeting with Mr Rabbs? More to the point, how did he even get in?! Unless…There was someone inside the Ministry who helped him. And why wasn't Mr Rabbs panicking at the presence of Lucius Malfoy and three cloaked figures? But upon closer inspection, two of the three cloaked figures were wearing heels, the other wearing dragon hide boots. Two cloaked women, a mysterious man and Lucius Malfoy?

Her parents had come for her.


	13. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 11**

_But why would Lucius Malfoy, her uncle, be meeting with Mr Rabbs? More to the point, how did he even get in?! Unless…There was someone inside the Ministry who helped him. And why wasn't Mr Rabbs panicking at the presence of Lucius Malfoy and three cloaked figures? But upon closer inspection, two of the three cloaked figures were wearing heels, the other wearing dragon hide boots. Two cloaked women, a mysterious man and Lucius Malfoy?_

_Her parents had come for her._

Distantly, she heard voices. Her mother's voice spoke a little tensely.

"Well? We're here now, what do we do?"

Rabbs spoke. "The logbooks say that Hermione has entered the Ministry. So I imagine she'll be here momentarily. Until then, might I suggest you hide yourselves?"

Her breathing instantly quickened and her head spun. So they were monitoring the logbooks? That meant she would probably be stopped from leaving. So what could she do? Looking around quickly, she hurried into the nearby female lavatories. So she couldn't leave? At least, not as Hermione Granger. She ran into a stall and locked the door, thinking quickly. She ripped a piece of toilet roll off and transformed it into a medium sized mirror, propping it up on the seat. _'Let's hope that simply _reading_ Advanced Human Transfiguration books has paid off'_. Taking a calming breath, she took a risk…And pointed her wand at her face. _'Here we go'_.

!"!

Fifteen minutes passed in Rabbs' office and Hermione still hadn't come in, and everyone was getting agitated. Bellatrix was quickly becoming impatient, Rodolphus and Narcissa were becoming concerned and Lucius was worried that somebody might come in and find them.

Bellatrix huffed. "Maybe she's gotten lost."

Lucius frowned at her, "She's nicknamed to be the smartest witch of her age; do you really think she can't find an office that she has already visited?"

"Maybe something has waylaid her." Rodolphus suggested. "She is, after all, the brains of the Golden Trio; she's more famous than us, darling." He said to Bellatrix.

"Or maybe she's realised that this whole situation is slightly…Odd." Narcissa tried. "After all, her biological parents have returned to the public eye only a week or so ago and now she has been urgently summoned to the Ministry to see the man who informed her of her heritage. As Lucius said, she is the smartest witch of her age – I wouldn't put it past her to have discovered this whole ruse."

"What do you propose we do, Lady Malfoy? According to our logbooks, she is still within the building."

"Then I shall go and search for her." Lucius declared, standing up.

Bellatrix snapped, "What?! If anybody should look for her, it should be me! I'm her mother!"

"That is exactly why it should be I. You might become…Irritated if something were to occur, whereas I will remain calm. You also would not hesitate to hex anyone who crosses your path."

Bellatrix seemed unfazed. "And that would be an issue because…?"

Lucius sighed. "Stay here, Bellatrix." He reapplied his Glamour charm, handed Narcissa his cane and tucked his wand into his sleeve.

!"!

Hermione looked at her new appearance in the mirror, pleased with her work. Her frizzy brown shoulder-length hair had been changed into a black bob, ending just below her ears. Her brown eyes were blue, she'd elongated her nose and made it just a bit wider and her freckles were gone. She didn't trust herself to try and change her body shape, instead changing her trousers and blouse into a dress and cardigan, giving her shoes a heel to match the outfit.

'_Okay, all I need to do is head down to the ground floor and leave. It's a different person on the 'Out' desk than it is on the 'In' so I can just write my name; there's bound to be more than one Hermione Granger in the world. Then quickly head to the nearest fireplace and Floo back to Hogwarts. Simple.'_ She pondered, changing the mirror back into the toilet paper and dabbing her new nose with it. Taking a deep breath, she flushed the toilet to avoid suspicion and left the stall, smoothing her dress down. And bumped into a woman.

"Oh, sorry!"

"No, it's not a problem." She answered shortly. Hermione looked up at her, noting her dark green eyes, so dark they were almost black. Her face was pretty though nothing worth remembering, with a nose a little too round and chubby cheeks. Her hair was shoulder length and an average brown, again nothing special or noteworthy. Hermione apologised again, stepping around her to get to the sinks. The woman regarded her casually, yet Hermione felt it was deeper than normal.

"Nice dress." She commented, reclining against the sinks' countertop as Hermione wet her hands.

"Thank you. I like your…Shoes…" The shoes…They were the same ones that she had seen entering Rabbs' office. Black Mary Jane heels, the stiletto heel decorated with steel studs – not a very popular style. That, along with the long cloak she was wearing and the dark eyes, meant that the woman standing in front of her…Was her mother, only wearing a Glamour charm like her. Is that why she was looking at her so closely? Glamour charms left a faint magical trace around them; those powerful enough could sometimes sense it. Not see through it, but know it was there.

"Thanks." Bellatrix replied. "You work here?"

"No, no, I…" Hermione hesitated as she rubbed the liquid soap into hands, "I'm here to see my lawyer." Not a complete lie…

"Hmmm," She nodded thoughtfully, "What about? If you don't mind me asking."

Hermione thought quickly. "I'm divorcing my husband."

"Oh no, I'm sorry." She said with fake sincerity. A normal person wouldn't have noticed it but Hermione now knew that Bellatrix knew something was off about her. "Were you married long?"

"No, only about…A year."

"Most young marriages never last anyway. How old _are_ you?"

Hermione gave a discreet glance at herself in the mirror. What age could she get away with? "Twenty."

"Twenty and you've already been married and are getting divorced(?) Goodness! Any children?"

"No." She said firmly. A bit too firmly…"We thought about it but we decided we were too young."

"Yes, yes, I suppose." She looked thoughtful again, eyeing Hermione closely.

The younger woman cast a drying spell on her hands and stood awkwardly. "Well…Have a nice day."

"Yes, you too." Bellatrix straightened up and extended her hand. Hermione didn't want to. She wanted nothing less than to touch her! But she knew she had to…Slowly, she reached out and put her hand in her mother's, shaking it hesitantly. They let go a second later. "I hope the divorce works out. Sorry to hear about it."

"Yes, thank you." They stood there for a few more seconds. "Goodbye then." She said quickly, turning and leaving, feeling the burn of her mother's stare. That was the first conversation she had had with her mother. And every word spoken had been a lie. Was that a sign of things to come? Trying not to think about it, she hurried as quickly as she could down the corridor without drawing attention to herself, simply making it look like she was late to a meeting. She pressed the button for the elevator, thanking Merlin when it came only a second later. As she stepped in and turned around, requesting the ground floor. The door to Rabbs' office was open, Bellatrix standing in the doorway facing in. Rabbs was clearly talking to her and then his gaze shifted. Onto Hermione.

Her heart faltered, making her breath skip a beat. Bellatrix turned and started walking towards the elevator, making Hermione feel like a mouse being approached by a cat. She stepped back instinctively, shrinking into the back of the elevator, grateful that a few more people entered, standing in front of her. The gate closed and the box started moving. Hermione let out a relieved breath.

A hand came down on her shoulder and squeezed a little. Oh no…


	14. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 12**

_Her heart faltered, making her breath skip a beat. Bellatrix turned and started walking towards the elevator, making Hermione feel like a mouse being approached by a cat. She stepped back instinctively, shrinking into the back of the elevator, grateful that a few more people entered, standing in front of her. The gate closed and the box started moving. Hermione let out a relieved breath._

_A hand came down on her shoulder and squeezed a little. Oh no…_

"Don't shout." Drawled a familiar voice. Her uncle. "Don't scream. Don't draw attention to yourself." His quiet voice was drowned out by the conversation two men were having, complaining about the new security measures, saying that the new logbooks were a step too far with security. Ironic. "We're going to get off at the ground floor, head to the elevators on the other side of the room and then head back up. And then we're all going to have a nice little _chat_."

The elevator ride lasted less than a minute, Lucius pushing her out with his firm grip on her shoulder. She walked out, desperately trying to appear calm and collected, despite trying to make eye contact with someone. Anyone! Why wouldn't anyone look at her?! "Don't try, dear, a simple Notice-Me-Not spell." Hermione's insides trembled with that knowledge. Notice-Me-Not spells basically made a person half-invisible. It's sort of like when you're looking for a book in a library and you see all the other books but you don't notice them – you know they're there but they're not important enough to look at properly. The people in the atrium knew she and Lucius were there, that's why they didn't bump into them, but they thought they were just other members of the large crowds.

Lucius guided her to the other side of the large room and waiting for another elevator for a minute.

"Why now?" Hermione managed to whisper.

"Pardon?"

"Why now? Why come to 'chat' with me now?"

He gave a small chuckle. "We shall discuss that shortly."

The elevator arrived and they headed back up to the fourth floor. This time, they arrived at the other end of the corridor, with Rabbs' office at the end and on the left instead of straight ahead. He pushed her forward until they arrived at the office. Surprisingly, he knocked and waited a second before entering. Rabbs was sitting at his desk. Alone. Or so it appeared. The moment Lucius closed and locked the office door, she watched Bellatrix, Narcissa and Rodolphus remove Disillusionment charms from their bodies.

"It's time you came home."

!"!

No one quite knew what to do at first. Mr Rabbs just sat behind his desk; Hermione stayed standing and looked between her father, her mother and Rabbs, mouth closed tight; Rodolphus, Bellatrix and Narcissa just wanted to go over to the girl and hug her fiercely; Lucius wanted to hurry the process up before they were caught.

"Well, what do we say we dispense of these ridiculous Glamours?" Lucius suggested. A second later, Hermione felt the magic of her Glamour being pulled from her body like a sheet. Looking up, she was surprised by how…Good her parents looked. 'Good' here meaning 'healthy'. 'Normal'. Bellatrix's curls were pinned back and quite tame, falling all the way down her back. She had removed the robes and wore a steel grey silk pencil dress, which hugged her curves and pulled in her figure that she had slowly regained over the past few months. Rodolphus' equally black hair was neatly arranged and combed back, his angular jaw line covered in a thin layer of neatly trimmed hair. He chose to wear office robes that matched his wife's dress. Both of them bore no outward signs of their fourteen year prison sentence, their faces looking a normal colour and well rested.

After no one had spoken for several minutes, Rodolphus cleared his throat. "Hermione, I know this must be a lot to take in-"

She interrupted with a simple, "No."

"Pardon?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere with you."

"I'm afraid," Lucius spoke up from behind her, making her turn her head to look at him, "That you don't really have a choice, my dear."

"Oh, and why's that?" The only sound she heard was a small odd slapping sound. She turned again and saw Bellatrix fold her arms after she had thrown down a few pieces of folded parchment onto Rabbs' desk. She cautiously drew closer to the desk and picked the papers up, unfolding them. _'Document of Parental Rights Agreement'_ was written in old fashioned ink across the top of the page.

"You will come with us, Hermione, because of as three days ago, you are officially our daughter again." Bellatrix explained in a surprisingly calm voice.

Hermione flicked through the parchment leaves, desperate to find a sign that they were forgeries. This couldn't be happening. She read through them all and couldn't stop a tear falling onto one of them as she read both of the Grangers' signatures on the bottom of each paper. When she saw the penmanship that she knew was indeed the Grangers', she sunk down into the chair in front of the desk. "This…This can't be true. Because…Because for me to be your daughter again, the Grangers would have had to sign these."

Bellatrix shrugged. "Yes. And?"

"And they wouldn't do that. They wouldn't…Wouldn't give me up. Not to you, not when they know…Not when they know what you are." She shuddered with tears and cupped her mouth.

Narcissa stepped forward. "They didn't _want_ to sign the papers. They wanted to keep you so much…If it helps, Hermione, they needed a lot of…Encouragement."

Hermione gave a bitter laugh. "Encouragement? Is that what you call torture now? 'Encouragement'?" Narcissa hesitated. "How is knowing that you tortured my parents supposed to 'help' me?" She bit back.

"They aren't your parents, Hermione, we are!" Bellatrix snapped.

"Then where were you?!" She screamed, silent tears now streaming down her face. "Yes, I know you were in Azkaban but…Why? Why did you leave? Voldemort was gone; so were all the other Death Eaters. You could have stopped. We could have…" She wouldn't say it. But they all knew. She stood up resolutely. "You had your chance to be parents, and you threw it away. So I'm throwing you away."

She turned to leave but was quickly stopped. "Miss Lestrange!" Mr Rabbs called. She spun around, ready to tell him that that was not her name when he spoke again. "You can't change this!" He picked up the papers she had thrown back on the desk. "These are real! The signatures are real!" He paused and shrugged. "It's done. You _are_ Hermione Narcissa Lestrange now. Fact. You can't change it. The paperwork is already done and filed away, in the muggle world too."

Hermione was speechless. When had this happened? All she managed to stutter was, "What?" Why hadn't she been told? But then it clicked. "You. You knew about this, didn't you? You knew what they were doing and what they were planning." She accused Rabbs.

"Mr Rabbs has been our family's attorney since before you were born." Rodolphus explained. "After we escaped from Azkaban, we owled him to ask how you were doing and where you were. Imagine our surprise when he said that you had already been to visit him, asking about us."

"So why didn't you do this when you first got out?"

"It was a very busy time for us all. We had some other business to attend to, some matters involving the Dark Lord-"

Hermione gave a bitter and sarcastic laugh. "Well there it is. The epicentre of everything. You chose Him over me the first time. And look where you ended up; I would have thought that the second time around, it would have knocked some sense into you. But no. You chose Him _again_."

"Hermione, we do regret not being there for you when you were you growing up but-"

She finished her mother's sentence, "You wouldn't change it. And that's the worst part! If you regretted it, if you would redo it if you could then maybe…Maybe I could give you a chance…But no. You don't regret it and you wouldn't take it back. Basically saying that you're happy with the way things turned out and you're completely fine with the fact that I grew up away from you. Must have been a load off your mind, knowing I was with someone else, that someone else was taking care of me, bringing me up so you didn't have to-"

"No!" Bellatrix exploded, moving around the desk to stand toe to toe with her daughter. "I may not regret serving the Dark Lord – and I never will! – but I regret every second that I wasn't there for you, and I always will!" Close up, Hermione really could see herself in this woman. Their faces were similar shapes, their jaw lines near matches. Their noses looked almost twin-like and their mouths had the same bow shape, although Bellatrix's top lip was slightly fuller.

"Bellatrix, this is getting us nowhere; we could argue about this all day." Lucius spoke up for the first time in nearly ten minutes. "We need to leave before anybody knows we are here."

"Actually Lord Malfoy," Rabbs started, "There's still the matter of the contract."

Hermione frowned and looked past Bellatrix. "What contract?"

"The behavioural contract that all Pureblood children have before they come of age."

"Oh really? And what does this 'behavioural contract' say?"

Rabbs shuffled through a folder and pulled out a piece of parchment. He cleared his throat and read aloud. _"From this day forward until the 19__th__ of September 1996, Hermione Narcissa Lestrange agrees to the following behavioural constrictions; Firstly, she must reside at an approved location until marriage, unless given express permission by a parent or guardian. Secondly, she may not be without a chaperone around males unless given express permission by a parent or guardian. Thirdly, she may not go anywhere outside of Lestrange Manor and Malfoy Manor and their grounds without first informing a parent or guardian, and then must be given express permission by a parent or guardian. Fourthly, she must complete her education to NEWT level. Fifthly, she may go to University should she desire to do so, though only if her parents or guardians approve."_ He lowered the parchment onto the desk.

All Hermione could do was laugh. "You actually expect me to agree to that?"

"Miss Lestrange, you don't have to. You are still a minor; a parent can sign it on your behalf."

Hermione stopped laughing abruptly when Rodolphus picked up a quill and pulled the parchment towards him. "No!" She tried to rush towards the desk to stop him signing it, but Bellatrix held her back. She was surprisingly strong considering that she'd almost wasted away for fourteen years in prison.

Rodolphus finished signing it, making the contract glow a low golden colour. Rabbs picked it up and put it back inside the folder, closing it and shutting it away. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No, thank you, Rabbs. We'd best be on our way."


	15. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 13**

Hermione sat in an armchair in front of the fire in the main drawing room of Malfoy Manor. How had this happened? Only a few hours ago, she was in her Charms practical exam. Now she was with her Death Eater parents, held against her will. Not a prisoner in the truest sense of the word, but still not allowed to leave. Why was this happening? Why now? Her parents, aunt and uncle were in the study, making – what they called – 'arrangements' for her. She was so busy staring into the fire that she hadn't heard the door open gently and soft footsteps in the room. A minute later, a voice said,

"Bottoms up."

Hermione turned her head and saw Draco standing next to her, holding out a crystal glass with a small measure of reddish-brown liquid in it. "Pardon?"

He explained, "Brandy is good medicine after a long day. But don't sip it; swallow it in one mouthful so you don't burn your mouth."

Hermione took the glass and watched him elegantly settle himself into the armchair opposite her, crossing his legs and twirling his own crystal glass in his right hand. "And you know this because?"

He smiled ruefully. "There have been a lot of long days lately. A lot of brandy poured out."

It was her turn to smile, though she did it bitterly. "Hmm, a lot of long days. The Azkaban break-out; my biological parents go back to working for a murdering maniac; fight a group of teenagers in the Ministry; torture my real parents; and then kidnap me against my will. That definitely needs brandy." She lifted the glass to her mouth and swallowed the whole measure of brandy as Draco had advised. Not burn her mouth? It was her stomach she was worried about! How could people drink that?! She coughed a little, covering her mouth.

"At least the muggles taught you manners."

Hermione glared at her cousin. "Those 'muggles' were my family."

"No they weren't. We're your family, Hermione."

"Oh, for God's sake, let's not go there, shall we?" She groaned. The burning in her stomach had settled to a comforting warmth. "So when did you find out?"

"The summer between third and fourth year. I came home with a black eye from when you hit me; Mother obviously went into her usual over protective mode. But when I told her that it had been you, she looked very…Uncomfortable. All she said was 'oh'. Father was there at the time, he remarked about how it marred my looks and how amused he was that a girl could hit that hard. I then promptly said that you weren't a girl, you were a mudblood-"

She interrupted indignantly, "Thanks, Malfoy!"

He ignored her, "And then Father actually backhanded me." Hermione couldn't hide her shock. "Mother was equally shocked, but she didn't defend me. Instead, she just gave me some ice for my cheek and explained everything. How you weren't actually a mudblood; you were my cousin. Had you never noticed that I didn't call you mudblood after that?"

Hermione had indeed noticed that, though at the time she had been too pleased to say anything. "So what then?"

"She told me that given our hostile history, it would look very suspicious if I suddenly became friendly. So I had to pretend."

"Pretend?"

"Yes. I have no other cousins, Hermione. And the only people our age that run in the same circle as I are all incompetent idiots."

"So you…Being horrible to me, for all those years was…Pretending?"

"I tried not to be too bad…"

"'Too bad'? You made me miserable! You tormented me, you insulted me, you hexed me-!"

"No, I didn't actually! That was always somebody else! Mother would have wrung my neck if she thought I'd hexed you."

She made an uncomfortable noise as she ruffled her hair with a hand. "Look, it…It doesn't matter in the end. We're too different to get along, Malfoy."

"How? We're both smart, we both enjoy reading, we both want to succeed and go far in life-"

"So? I'm nice, you're not. I have real friends, you don't. I don't lie and manipulate to get my way-"

He laughed a genuine laugh. "Really? I don't have friends? You don't lie? You're nice?"

"Yes!"

"What about Blaise Zabini? And Theo Nott? Marcus Flint? Adrian Pucey? You don't think they're my friends? Well maybe not friends as you think of friends but there are real relationships between us all. I don't lie to them, they don't lie to me, we help each other out…How is that not friendship? And this lying thing…You don't lie?"

"No."

"Never?"

"No."

"Not once?"

"No!"

"So Potter and Weasley know, do they? About your true heritage?"

"Y…No."

"Had you ever planned on telling them?"

"…No."

"You see, Hermione; every day that would have gone by without you telling them, would have been a lie. You would have had them believe that you were a muggleborn from a happy little pair of dentists. Not the truth. And I bet my inheritance – well half of it anyway – that the reason you didn't tell them, wasn't because you were ashamed…It was because you were worried about how they would react. Would they still be your friends? Would they look at you the same? Or would all they see when they look at you be 'Death Eaters' daughter' like it were tattooed across your face?" Hermione bit her lip to stop herself crying. He noticed this and pulled out a clean handkerchief from his trouser pocket and levitated it over to her.

"You see, that's the thing with you Gryffindors; you preach loyalty, yet from what I can recall; Potty and Weasel mocked your intelligence in First Year, practically disowned you for your concern over that broomstick in Third Year, Weasley wouldn't speak to Potter for months in Fourth over the Triwizard Tournament, and pretty much every Gryffindork refused to believe Potter when he insisted that the Dark Lord had returned." He touched his mouth with his fingertips in thought. "Interesting, isn't it? Their hypocrisy. Whereas in Slytherin, when you form a bond with a friend, there's not a lot that can shake it. Zabini, Nott, Flint, Pucey…I guarantee you, I'll probably still be friends with them in fifty years. Can you say the same over those two? Or," He reached into his jacket pocket, "When word gets out tomorrow," To her surprise, he pulled out a muggle cigarette, "That the brains behind the Boy-Who-Lived," He put it in his mouth and lit with his wand, "Is actually the daughter of two of the most infamous Death Eaters, will you suddenly be avoided as if you have Dragon Pox?" He took a long drag, blowing the smoke up in the air. Dragon Pox was a very contagious and fatal disease. Draco's grandfather Abraxas had died of it when Draco was a boy.

She didn't know what to say other than, "Since when do you smoke muggle cigarettes?"

He laughed. "Shagged a mudblood once and she offered me one after."

Hermione gave a disgusted groan. "So muggleborns aren't good enough to be in society but they're good enough for sex?"

"Exactly." He said simply. "Got to practice on someone, considering most Pureblood girls are ordered to save it for marriage."

She put the crystal glass down and stood up. "Ours is going to be a fun relationship."

He chuckled. "Night, Lestrange."

!"!

An hour after Hermione had retreated to her new vast bedroom suite with a fully equipped bathroom, a walk-in closet and a study; the adults joined Draco in the sitting room. Bellatrix and Rodolphus sat opposite him on a two-seater, Narcissa chose the end closest to Draco of the three-seater and Lucius ordered a House Elf to bring a tray of tea for everyone, acting the perfect host.

Bellatrix spoke first. "How was she?" She asked Draco.

He nodded. "She was fine. Stressed more than anything. Confused."

"And you were…Nice about everything?" Narcissa asked as the House Elf returned with a _Pop!_ and a tray of chamomile tea.

"Yes, Mother, I was."

"You're sure?"

He huffed. "Mother, I am not about to ruin my relationship with my newfound cousin. Of course I was nice."

"But there were shouts…"

"On her behalf when I questioned about her 'friends'."

Rodolphus pitched in, "What do you mean?"

"She said that she never lies and has real friends, yet when I pointed out all the fallings out that the 'Golden Trio' has had over the years, she became a little _annoyed_. She went upstairs about an hour ago."

Narcissa nodded as she finished pouring everyone's tea. "So what do we do now?"

Lucius said, "The Dark Lord's contact within the Legal Department of the Ministry is currently pulling a few strings and removing Bellatrix and Rodolphus from the Wanted lists. Come morning, you'll both be free to come and go as you please."


	16. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 14**

She couldn't help it. Bellatrix had been walking to the suite in Malfoy Manor that she and Rodolphus were currently sharing; Lestrange Manor was still being monitored by the Ministry. Lucius had told them that she and Rodolphus would be legally free come tomorrow morning, but she preferred Malfoy Manor; it was closer to her only sister – Andromeda, who was a year younger than her, had been disowned in her late teens for having the audacity to marry a mudblood – and her nephew. She also liked the grounds better and the building itself. She hadn't realised that she'd taken a detour, and was now standing in the doorway to her child's rooms. She was perfect. She was so much so, that in an odd way it kind of hurt Bellatrix's heart when she looked at her. Because Hermione wasn't perfect because of _her_. She was perfect because of those _muggles_! But Bellatrix wasn't worried about them; she'd had her revenge by torturing – physically and emotionally – the bitch who'd kept insisting that Hermione was her child, not Bellatrix's, by ransacking their belongings.

!"!

_One Week Before_

_Bellatrix had hit the jackpot! Oh, this was a good day! Not only had both Drs Granger signed the parental rights form, but as she'd been looking through their things after Lucius had put their victims to sleep, searching for anything relating to her daughter, when she'd come across a whole chest of drawers full of packets of photographs. So dumb these muggles, to not have moving pictures! How did they cope? Bellatrix sat on the floor in the room, photographs covering the floor around her, though one huge pile stood out. The 'Hermione' pile. Bellatrix had been flicking through the photographs for nearly an hour, her eyes sore from all the intense staring she had been doing, but she was transfixed. The top drawer of the chest contained early photos, pictures of Hermione just after she arrived at their house. There were hundreds of them, the Grangers having obviously been overjoyed by the fact that they finally had a child. Pictures of her playing with her toys, pictures of her reading books, pictures of her feeding some ducks by a river in the most adorable pink wellington boots and matching raincoat, pictures of her running around in their garden. Every time Bellatrix found a picture of just Hermione by herself, she placed it gently on the 'Hermione' pile, ready to take them home with her. Why were these hidden away in a drawer? Why weren't they displayed proudly, like they should be?!_

_The middle drawer's pictures were slightly later on, maybe five/six up to eight/nine. And the final drawer was nine onwards, the most recent obviously being the summer before her fifth year. From eleven onwards, there had been a noticeable decrease in pictures, clearly from Hermione being at a boarding school. Bellatrix was amazed. It would never match up to the real thing, but she had basically watched her daughter grow up. She'd now seen her when she was three, four, five…All the way up until a few months ago. As a young child, Hermione had loved to play with toys and be outside, often being measured against an old oak tree in the park that also held the ducks she liked. But as ages eight to nine hit, she became more bookish and indoors-y. Bellatrix absently wondered what had changed her as she pulled loose a thread from the carpet and changed it into a bag, levitating the Hermione pile into it, closing it._

_Narcissa stepped into the room, taking in the mess. "Did you find what you were looking for?"_

_Bellatrix grinned and held up the bag. "Yup!"_

!"!

A pair of arms slid around her waist, a bearded face rubbing against her cheek. "What are you doing here?" Rodolphus whispered in her ear, not wanting his child to wake and find her parents standing in her doorway.

"I don't know."

"Then why are you still standing here? It's late; it's been a long day."

"I think I had to see her. See her when she isn't glaring at us or near tears."

"She'll get over it. Or if she doesn't, she'll adapt."

"But she's been with those muggles! And she's friends with the Brat-Who-Should-Have-Died!" Bellatrix hissed.

"Don't let her hear you say that." He joked. She sighed, leaning her head against his shoulder, their height differences meaning her head tilted back only slightly. She rested her hands over his on her stomach. "What are you thinking about?"

"Memories."

!"!

_Fifteen Years Ago_

_Whoever told Bellatrix that pregnancy was a 'magical time' was going to be severely Crucio'd! Needing to visit the bathroom every hour, difficulty getting comfortable in bed, bloating feet – not that Bellatrix could easily see them anymore – bloating stomach and gas…And she was only twenty weeks in! All the joys of pregnancy seemed even more demanding when she knew that she didn't really want the child. Why had the Dark Lord forbidden a termination? He'd allowed it in the past for other women, why not her? Why not now? She sighed to herself, picking up her jar of hand lotion as she stood by the sink in her and her husband's bathroom. Rodolphus was combing his hair – which made no sense considering he was going to go to bed soon – whilst she rubbed the lotion in. She loved him with all her heart but sometimes she hated him for doing this to her, for getting her pregnant. Now she had to sacrifice nine months of her life for something that she didn't even want. And Bellatrix was not a selfless person!_

"_I visited the obstetrician earlier."_

_He perked up as he picked up his toothbrush. "And how did it go?"_

"_Good. No complications, it's perfectly healthy. She told me the gender too."_

_He walked over to her and looked at her face. "And?"_

_She frowned in confusion. "Why does it matter?"_

"_Because this is our baby!"_

"_So? It's just a stupid baby." Rodolphus looked visibly hurt. "And anyway, why do you care when we'll be so busy with the Dark Lord's missions? We'll hardly need to see it."_

"'_Need to see it'? Bella…" He paused, taking a deep breath through his nose, his fist clenching, "When you told me that you never wanted children, I didn't argue with you. I couldn't see myself being a father either. But when you told me that you were pregnant and that the Dark Lord had forbidden you to have a termination, everything changed. You might not want this, Bella, but I do! I _want_ to have a child with you, I _want_ to be a father." Her face softened. For the past five months, she'd been so focused on how this situation was changing her life, she'd never really thought about Rodolphus. She murmured an apology. "Now tell me. Am I to shop for training brooms for my son, or start practicing my 'stay away from my daughter' speeches?"_

_She smiled at him. "Just don't make the speeches too long."_

"_A girl?" He grinned triumphantly. _

"_Mmm-hmmm." She nodded, picking up her own toothbrush. There, he knew now. Now he could plan and be excited and she could just get on with everything and try to live her life as best she can – Oh! Oh, what's that?!_

"_Bella?" He asked worriedly, gently touching her stomach. "Bella, are you…Oh…"_

_A kick. A second later, another kick. The baby was kicking. The person growing inside her was kicking. Their daughter was giving her first kick. Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked at each other, and then he saw it. It had just became real for her. She was going to be a mother. She was carrying a child, _her_ child. Now she wanted this just as much as he did._

!"!

Bellatrix turned in his arms. "I want to say this. And I don't care if I get killed for it."

Rodolphus paused tensely. "What is it?"

"In the future, if there's ever another time when we have to choose…If we have to choose between her and Him…I want you to promise me that we'll choose her. We have to. I can't…" She turned back around, looking at her sleeping child, who was now a young woman, "I _won't_ lose her again."


	17. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 15**

"I don't think this is a good idea."

Hermione stood between Bellatrix and Rodolphus facing the fireplace in the living room. They were _all_ about to Floo to Dumbledore's office. Together. Ministry papers had arrived with the Daily Prophet that morning over breakfast – which was a very awkward and uncomfortable affair for Hermione – which cited that Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange were currently 'under investigation' by the Ministry. Although considering that Voldemort now had the Ministry in the palms of His slimy hands, 'under investigation' meant absolutely nothing. They were free.

"Now, now, darling, we need to get this over with sooner or later. And the longer we leave it, the crazier Dumbledore will get over it. So we'll just shove the papers in his face and tell him that there's nothing he can do about it." Bellatrix cackled.

Rodolphus explained in a calmer manner, gently touching Hermione's shoulder. "You need to continue your education. And since that you have legally changed your identity-"

She remarked quietly, "No, you changed it for me."

He chose to ignore her but seemed to bristle slightly. "We must inform the Headmaster of it and of your new home."

"But then Dumbledore will know where I am."

"Sweetie, he's always known exactly where we lived, even during the Dark Lord's reign before, and he never did anything. Because he _couldn't_ do anything." The fireplace flared to show that Dumbledore was ready for them. "Here we go!" She grinned happily, taking Hermione's hand and leading her through the fireplace.

'_Here we go…'_

The first thing Hermione heard upon arriving in Dumbledore's office was shouting and laughing. She emerged fully from the grate and froze. It wasn't just Dumbledore present. With him stood McGonagall, Snape, Harry and Ron. The young boys looked very red in the face and had their wands drawn. Snape looked impassive, almost bored by the situation, though his eyes conveyed his interest and concern. McGonagall looked between Dumbledore, Bellatrix and Hermione, looking incredibly flustered and confused. Rodolphus stepped through a second later.

"Morning, Dumbledore." He greeted.

"Good morning, Rodolphus. Bellatrix. Hermione." He nodded respectfully to the women.

"Professor, what's going on?" Harry demanded, keeping his wand trained on Bellatrix.

"Harry, m'boy, I think we should all sit down."

"What is Hermione doing with…With _her_!" Ron spat.

Bellatrix spoke first. "I'm her mummy!" She announced, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

!"!

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Hermione sat on the small wall nestled in the gap between two pillars, Harry sitting in the gap between the next two columns. She sat with her back perfectly straight, her hands folded in her lap, looking uncannily like a Pureblood young woman, while Harry sat perched on the edge of the wall, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, one hand running through his messy locks.

"Maybe one day." She replied honestly.

"Why only maybe?"

"Because I didn't want you to know. I didn't want _anyone_ to know."

"Because they're Death Eaters?"

"Of course, what do you expect?"

He paused before whispering, "They're still your parents."

Hermione's heart gave a small clench, the knowledge that Harry's parents were dead slamming back into her mind almost painfully. "But the Grangers were my family. They loved me-"

"Hermione, those two," He sighed, "They love you. Anyone can see how much."

"Not enough to stay home with me instead of going out on Death Eater missions after You-Know-Who was gone. As I told them, they chose their loyalty to Him over their love for me. I would rather have no parents than have them."

Harry flinched. "Don't say that."

She hung her head in shame. "Sorry." She gave a humourless laugh. "I can't believe this, you're actually defending them."

"I'm defending them as your parents, not as the Death Eater scum they are."

"Hear, hear." She murmured. She looked at him closely again, and then opened her mouth without thinking. "She killed Sirius. Two weeks ago, my mother killed the only family you had-"

He cut across her sharply. "So what happens now?"

She straightened up a little, grimacing when the new scars scattered across her torso tugged a little. "I'm coming back to Hogwarts to finish my education. I'll return to wherever they're staying for the Christmas, Easter and summer holidays…Then I imagine the cycle will start again for seventh year."

"I meant about Voldemort. Will you still…'Help' me?" He whispered.

She sighed. "They have this contract hanging over my head until my seventeenth birthday, called a 'Pureblood Behavioural Contract', says what I can and can't do. Among other things, I can't go out anywhere unchaperoned, but seeing as I'm seventeen in only a few weeks, I imagine after that they'll have their spies watching me and probably opening my mail." She said bitterly.

"Because of who you are?"

She looked at him closely. "Because of who _you_ are, Harry. Not only am I the only child of You-Know-Who's most loyal, I'm also best friend to Harry Potter."

"I can imagine they're happy about that, thinking you're strategically placed, as my friend." Harry smiled.

Hermione sobered and regarded him carefully. "Am I still your friend, Harry?"

He looked at her and clasped her hand in his. "Always. Ron'll come around, he always does." Ron had stormed out of Dumbledore's office only two minutes after Hermione and her parents had Floo'ed through.

_**!"! Twenty minutes before !"!**_

_Harry paled and Ron grew redder. "What? No!"_

"_Yes." Rodolphus stated simply, holding out the legal forms and paternity test to Dumbledore._

_The old man took the forms. "I already know the results of the paternity test, thank you, Rodolphus."_

"_Then you should know that there's nothing really that you can do. Hermione has legally been returned to her rightful place. The muggles' adoption has been reversed and she's back where she belongs. With her family."_

"_For this to have been done, the Grangers would have had to consent." McGonagall insisted as she looked over the papers. But the way Bellatrix smirked at her made her sick. "I see."_

"_Those muggles aren't important." Bellatrix waved off. "What is important is that you all know that Hermione is now living with us and we won't be letting her go."_

"_Hermione…" Harry started, looking pleadingly at her, "Hermione, tell us this isn't true…You can't be her daughter…You're…You're _good_!"_

"_I'm sorry, Harry." She begged. "I'm sorry but…It's true."_

"_Of course it's true, look at us." Bellatrix smiled._

_Harry hated to admit it but now that they were side by side, he couldn't deny the physical similarities. Jaw line, cheekbones, nose, hair…Not the eyes though. Bellatrix's were completely black, whilst Hermione's were a hazel brown with speckles of gold. Just like Rodolphus'. _

"_How could this have happened?" Ron blurted out as he gaped at the two Lestrange women._

_Bellatrix cackled. "Well, Weasley, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they fu-"_

"_Thank you, Bellatrix, I think we all know _how_ it happened." Dumbledore interrupted. "I think what Mr Weasley was asking was how Hermione ended up with the Grangers."_

_Bellatrix scoffed. "Those muggle scum…"_

_Hermione tensed, closed her eyes and took a calming breath. McGonagall saw this. "Miss Gra-Lestrange, perhaps it would be best if you, Potter and Weasley stepped outside whilst myself, the Headmaster, Professor Snape and your…Parents sort things out."_

"_Don't bother, I'm off!" Ron snapped, storming out of Dumbledore's office, slamming the door on his way out._

_Rodolphus brushed some invisible lint off of his robes while Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "Weasleys; always so dramatic and hot-headed."_

_Hermione pushed her mother's arm off her shoulder, turned and opened her mouth when Harry cut across her. "Hermione, come on. We'll wait outside."_

!"!

"Get your filthy half-blood hand off my daughter, Potter."

Harry and Hermione stood up, their hands separating as they moved slightly more into the space of the corridor, seeing her parents and Snape descend the staircase from Dumbledore's office.

Rodolphus called after his glaring wife who was now charging towards the two teens, "Bella-"

She advanced on Harry, getting toe-to-toe with him, standing a few inches of his face. "If I see you touch my daughter again, I'll rip off whatever you dare to sully her with."

Harry, although he was nearly a foot shorter than her, stood his ground. "I look forward to it, murderer."

Bellatrix hissed angrily and pulled her hand back, ready to strike when Snape abruptly stepped forward, grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the Gryffindor. "Bellatrix, please refrain from assaulting the idiot boy." He released her hand when she snarled at him, but she nonetheless stepped to the side.

"Come, Hermione, we're leaving."

Hermione, feeling with a rabbit who was about to be eaten by a wolf, paled and sputtered out, "But it's still term time-"

Rodolphus spoke up. "And you had your last exam yesterday so there's no reason for you to continue staying here. All you would do is pass the time until Friday when you would take the train back to London."

"Have you thought that perhaps I might like to stay with my friends for a few more days?" She demanded.

"No, no, darling, you can't socialise with these…" She glared at Harry down her nose, "_People_ anymore. And as of September, you're being transferred into Slytherin."

Harry and Hermione both started protesting loudly, until Rodolphus spoke louder and ordered them to be quiet. "Your mother and I will not have you around the Gryffindor filth anymore, you're above them."

"But I don't want to move house. I have no Slytherin qualities, whatsoever! I wouldn't survive a week!"

Rodolphus arched his eyebrow. "No Slytherin qualities? Are you not cunning? Are you not good at making plans? Do you not think ahead? Do you not have goals and hopes of future achievements? And you believe you wouldn't survive a week? You're the daughter of the Dark Lord's most loyal; the only reason you wouldn't survive a week is if you were drowned by compliments and trampled by people begging to assist you. Now come, it's time to say goodbye."


	18. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 16**

"So what do I do all day, until September?"

In Lestrange Manor, Hermione sat in an armchair in the third sitting room – third because the first was only for formal occasions (of course!) and the second was being remodelled, along with most of the rooms through the large mansion. Narcissa was rearranging a potted orchid in the windowsill, turning it this way and that to make it look perfect. Bellatrix was setting up various framed photographs on top of the fireplace mantelpiece, mimicking Narcissa as she turned and carefully positioned each frame before starting on the next one.

"What would you like to do, darling?" Bellatrix asked as she lovingly touched a picture of Hermione. She still couldn't believe, and didn't truly want to, how different the upset girl sitting a few feet away from her was compared to the tiny toddler she'd last seen her as. Where was the little girl who needed help arranging her wooden blocks into words? Why wasn't Bellatrix needed for Tucking In Time at night? How could Hermione sleep without goodnight kisses from Mummy and Daddy? Where had the monsters under the bed gone?

Hermione snapped, "See my friends."

Bellatrix sighed, closing her eyes in a clear attempt to calm herself. "What would you normally do?"

Hermione repeated herself. "See my friends."

"Besides that!" Bellatrix shouted, bringing her fist down onto the mantelpiece in anger. Silence filled the room for a few seconds before Bellatrix spoke again, much softer this time. "You can't see those Gryffindors again, so what else would you like to do to pass the time? And just bear in mind before you answer, there's the matter of your Behavioural Contract."

"Well as I'm not allowed to go out anywhere-"

Narcissa clarified, taking a step back and eyeing the orchid. "Hermione darling, it is not that you are not allowed to go out, it is that you may not go out unaccompanied."

The younger woman huffed. "Then what is there to do here, at the Manor?"

Bellatrix perked up, happy that Hermione was even a little interested in life at the Manor, and stepped closer to the young woman. "Well you could take a walk through the grounds, or we could give you a tour of the house?"

"That's it? Walking around?"

"I could show you your baby rooms-"

"No. I don't want to see them."

"Why not?"

Bellatrix sounded genuinely upset, but Hermione didn't care. "Because no doubt you'll put on a show about how loved I was and how I wanted for nothing and how I was the apple of your eye, et cetera. So I don't want to see them."

Before Bellatrix could become more upset, Narcissa spoke up again. "Well there's the art gallery, the music room, the library-"

Hermione perked up, interrupting her aunt. "Library? You have a library?"

"Hermione, it's rude to interrupt. And of course we have a library. Would you like to see it?"

She stood up. "Yes please!"

"Excellent!" Narcissa chirped up, brushing down her light-coloured summer robes and walking over to her niece and sister. "Bellatrix, will you be accompanying us?"

Hermione answered for her. "No, I think Bellatrix has some more decorating to do." She said coldly, picking up one of the framed pictures of her that she recognised from the Grangers' house, and thrust it into her mother's stomach before walking off.

Narcissa stood by her sister for a second, worried when she saw tears in the older woman's eyes. "She hates me." Bellatrix whispered, holding the frame as if it were Hermione herself.

The blonde couldn't argue with that. "She hates Bellatrix Lestrange, the infamous Death Eater. She doesn't know Bellatrix, her mother, yet. Just give her time." She gave her sister a quick embrace before leaving the room after her niece. She walked over to the glaring Gryffindor. "There's no need to be so cruel."

"Do you think Alice and Frank Longbottom said the same thing to her?" She asked in a neutral tone.

"The Longbottoms were given a choice; to answer the questions, or-"

"Don't you dare try and justify torture to me!"

"I'm just saying that it has its uses." She replied, heading down a corridor.

"Like with the Grangers?" Hermione called after her.

'_Merlin, this girl can be frustrating!' _Narcissa thought to herself. "Again, they were given a choice. They could have simply signed the documents and we would have left them alone. Instead, they chose to be difficult."

Hermione scoffed in indignation. "Difficult? Oh yes, I can see how being loving and caring towards your children would be a hard thing for _you lot_ to understand-!"

"Enough!" They both looked over to the side of the room to see Lucius emerge from the shadows, looking just as imposing as he had in the Department of Mysteries. Speaking of which, Hermione's scars felt especially tight today, she'd need to use more of the cream Madame Pomfrey had given her. "This is ridiculous!"

"Hardly." Hermione snapped.

Lucius stared at her disapprovingly, making her slightly uncomfortable. "We are all aware that this situation is not ideal-"

"Ideal?"

"Do. Not. Interrupt me again, Hermione." He said firmly. When the girl remained quiet, he spoke again. "Narcissa, would you mind checking if Bellatrix is alright? I fear for the sitting room's wellbeing. I'll escort Hermione to the library." He walked off back the way he'd came before either woman could argue. Hermione knew she should follow him, so she did quietly. She followed her uncle down many corridors, taking too many turns to keep track of her whereabouts, until they came to a large set of dark wooden doors with gold accents on them. "Dinner is at seven, an Elf will collect you at half six, so that you may dress for dinner. For the first time entering the library, I suggest that you use both doors." He explained before leaving. Hermione walked up to the doors, put her hands on both of the handles and then paused.

"Is this really the library?"

Lucius audibly sighed. "Where do you think I have led you?"

"To my baby rooms. Bellatrix wanted to show me them."

"Hermione, I have no interest in catering to Bellatrix's maternal 'needs'."

"That doesn't prove that this is the library."

"Yes, you're right, I have actually led you to our torture chambers, go in and accept your fate." He snapped sarcastically. "Hermione, we broke into the Ministry of Magic in order to get you back, your parents then went to Hogwarts, thus allowing themselves to be open to any attacks. We are even putting up with these childish temper tantrums! You are in a bad mood and I know you like libraries. Enjoy." He snapped, walking off down the dark corridor.

She turned back to the large doors, opening both of them at the same time as her uncle had suggested. "Oh my god!" She cried out, hurrying into the room and then pausing. The room was huge, probably thrice the size of the Great Hall and twice as tall. There were shelves everywhere, every one of them filled with books. The shelves went on for as long as she could see, only just being able to make out the rows at the end of the room. Every so often there were metal spiral staircases leading up onto a second and third floor of books. Hermione actually felt like she had gone to Heaven, she might just have found her sanctuary in her new world.

!"!

Hermione had been in the library for nearly seven hours, still sitting in the same position she had assumed shortly after Lucius had left her to read. The window-box she was seated in was comfortably padded, large plush pillows protected Hermione's back from the cold hardness of the glass windows. The pages of the book in her lap were gently illuminated by the soft ambient lighting; if she weren't so engrossed in the book, she could easily fall asleep in the pleasantly warm room. There was no sound in the library. Some people might find it a disturbing silence; Hermione revelled in it, allowing her brain to absorb the information from the book easily.

The whole of the lighting in the room seemed to flicker for a second, flashing off and back on. Hermione frowned and looked up at the candles closest to her. After a few seconds, nothing happened. She returned to her book, starting the sentence she was on again. The lights flickered again, making her sigh tiredly and scrutinising the closest candle, watching the flame dance dangerously and then settle down. She returned to her book. Then, all the lights went out, plunging Hermione into darkness. For seconds, nothing happened. She remained in the dark. She closed the book and put it down, before standing up and taking a few cautious steps closer to the nearest floor-length candelabra. The candle wicks gently released trails of smoke which curled through the air like snakes. They'd been blown out. But how? The room was sealed and there were no windows open.

Before Hermione could inspect the room closer, all the candles relit themselves, lighting the room up again. Deciding to let it go, Hermione turned around to go back to the window-box. When she came face to face with the white skinned, flat-nosed face which was Lord Voldemort.

"It's nice to see you again, Hermione."


	19. Chapter 17

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 17**

_Before Hermione could inspect the room closer, all the candles relit themselves, lighting the room up again. Deciding to let it go, Hermione turned around to go back to the window-box. When she came face to face with the white skinned, flat-nosed face which was Lord Voldemort._

"It's nice to see you again, Hermione." Hermione didn't know what to say. Or what to do. What does one do when one comes face to face with the most evil man one's ever known? She was barely able to make a few stuttering sounds before He laughed at her, a sound that made her skin crawl. "I hope you're not always this inarticulate." He walked past her to the window box she'd been sitting in, picking up the book. "_A Pure Woman's Role'_? I expected something more obvious. Perhaps _'How to Be a Slytherin'_." He joked.

Hermione mustered enough courage to say, "If I wanted to know that, I'd ask you."

For a few seconds He didn't react. Then He laughed again. "You have a sense of humour. I already like you more than I did when you barely reached my knees." He said, walking over to a shelf a few yards away. She followed, always staying a few feet away, as He perused the books.

"You've met me before?"

"Of course I have, silly child. Your parents are among my most loyal; before my run-in with the Potter infant, we often had meetings here, when Bellatrix would insist on having you in her lap so she could always be with you." He explained as He picked out a book and walked over to another shelf.

"Really?" She asked, clearly not believing Him.

"Yes, you were rather a clever child, you showed promise." He pulled out a second book, followed quickly by a third. "Your skills were more developed by your first birthday than those of others who were two or three."

Hermione blushed with pride. And then froze. "I 'showed promise'?"

"You still do. If events had gone the way I had hoped-"

"Meaning that you'd killed Harry, my parents had never gone to prison, and I had been raised by them."

He glared at her for interrupting before continuing. "The way I'd hoped, I have no doubt that you would already be in my Inner Circle, an event which hasn't happened since your parents were your age." He glanced over at her, then turned back to the shelf and chose a fourth book.

"You can't seriously believe that I'd-?"

"I'm not foolish, Hermione, I know the Light has _ruined_ you."

She insisted, "And by 'ruined' you mean 'made me a good and kind person'."

The second she'd said that, she waited for the Crucio to hit her. Nothing happened. She looked up cautiously, seeing Voldemort smirking at her, now with six books in His pale hands, seemingly unfazed by their weight. "Brightest witch of her age, they said. Well you may the brightest, Hermione, but you're also one of the most naive." He walked over to her slowly, His feet making no sound on the parquet flooring. "You see the world as only black and white; that there is apparently never a grey area; something is either right or it is wrong." He stopped in front of her, until they were almost toe-to-toe. "That's rather naïve of you. Nothing in this world is ever black or white, and it's childish of you to think that it is."

"But it is!" She argued weakly, intimidated by both His arguments and His height over her. She wasn't exactly tall – standing at five-foot-five without shoes on – but He must have been at least six-foot. The height difference made her feel tiny and weak compared to Him.

He laughed gently. "Setting Snape's cloak on fire during your first year at Hogwarts? Is that in the 'white' part of the world?"

"I thought he was Jinxing Harry's broom!"

"Brewing an illegal potion in your second year? Well done on that, by the way."

"Because _your_ Basilisk was attacking muggleborns and we were investigating a lead!"

"Going behind the Ministry of Magic's back and helping a convict and a sentenced Beast escape execution?"

"Because they were both innocent!"

"Except the Beast wasn't; it _did_ attack Draco, you saw it. Never mind. Fourth year; Longbottom stole from Severus' storage to give Potter Gillyweed for the second task in the Triwizard tournament."

"Harry would have drowned otherwise."

"Organising an illegal extra-curricular club last year?"

"Umbridge wasn't preparing us for our OWLs."

"Breaking into the Ministry of Magic to help Potter?"

"He was trying to rescue Sirius, and he would have gotten himself killed otherwise." Throughout the conversation, Hermione felt as if she were physically deflating. Voldemort was right. She _had_ broken laws in the past, with the feeling that those actions were necessary. How is that not a grey subject?

"Oh Hermione…You have so much to learn." He gave her a final eerie smile before pushing His pile of books into her stomach, her arms automatically supporting them as He walked off.

"Don't you want them?"

"I've already read everything in here. I suggest you start with those." He left the library, leaving her looking down at the books in her arms. Why did He want her to read these?

!"!

Breakfast the next morning, Hermione sat at the dining table spreading strawberry jam onto a slice of wholegrain toast as she simultaneously read from a book resting open on the table behind her plate. She'd temporarily put _'A Pure Woman's Role'_ on hold for now, just until she'd read all the books that Voldemort had effectively handed her the night before in the library. After He'd left, she'd immediately started reading the book she currently had open, reading for an hour before an Elf had told her it was dinnertime. Throughout dinner, she hadn't said a word, thinking on what she'd already read in the book. It was a simple spell book, though Hermione had never heard of any of the spells in it. Probably because most of the spells in it had been prohibited by the Ministry, or were currently being debated whether or not they should be placed on the _Illegal Spells_ register. Some of the spells were rightfully illegal – the Blood Boiling curse, the Eye Removal charm, and the likes – but others were definitely in the grey area, probably not even dark enough for that; Expansion charms, various protective spells – including the one that Bellatrix had placed on Hermione in the Department of Mysteries battle. Was Voldemort genuinely helping her with her magic? Or was there a deeper reason for this aid?

The door opened behind her, soft footsteps entering the room.

"Good morning." Bellatrix said softly, vaguely uncertain as she sat down in the chair at the head of the table, an Elf pushing the chair in for her and fetching the Daily Prophet for her, placing it next to her plate.

"Morning." Hermione replied, taking a bite of her jammy toast. She knew what she wanted to say to her mother, she'd been running through it in her head all morning.

"How was the library yesterday?"

"It was lovely, thank you." Hermione hesitated for a second, wondering if that was the time to say it.

As she selected a slice of toast, Bellatrix asked, "What are you reading?"

"'_Philpot's Book of Spells'_."

The older woman's head shot up. "Really?" Hermione showed her the cover before putting it back down and turning the page. "I wouldn't have expected you to read that." She buttered her toast.

"Voldemort suggested it."

A sudden and loud scraping was heard, making Hermione look up to see Bellatrix rush to her chair, leaning against the arms and looking at her daughter's face closely. "What?" She spoke in nearly a whisper.

"He gave me a pile of books to read."

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"When 'yesterday'?"

"When He came to see me in the library."

Bellatrix paused. "He spoke to you?"

"Well He spoke to me and I replied, so He spoke again and I replied again. That went on for a while."

"How long?"

"I'm not sure exactly. Five minutes, maybe ten."

"Was anyone else there?"

"No, it was just Him and I."

"What did you talk about?"

"He came to 'introduce Himself'." Hermione laughed at the irony. "We talked a little about my Hogwarts years and we sort of argued."

"You argued with Him?!" She cried, straightening up to her full height.

"It wasn't really an argument, more like an ethical discussion."

"'An ethical discussion' about what?"

"How the world works."

Bellatrix closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. "Hermione-"

"I want to give you a chance."

Bellatrix opened her eyes in shock, staring at Hermione. "You want to…? What did the Dark Lord say to you?" She asked in disbelief.

"He pointed out that not everything is black and white, that's not how the world works. And it was naïve of me to think that it does. Lucius Ma-" She took a breath, "My _uncle_ told me that I've been rather childish lately. You're not _just_ a Death Eater, you're also my mother. I owe you the chance to be one." By the time Hermione had finished speaking, Bellatrix had unshed tears in her eyes. "Bellatrix?" Hermione suddenly found herself being pulled out of her chair and into a tight embrace. It was oddly comfortable. With Bellatrix being nearly six-feet tall, Hermione's cheek rested against her mother's chest under her collarbone, her arms around Bellatrix's waist as Bellatrix had one arm around her shoulders and her other hand cupping the back of her head. It was nice.


	20. Chapter 18

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 18**

"No, no, dear, your right foot is pointing the wrong way."

Hermione sighed with frustration as Narcissa was attempting to teach her to waltz without a partner. This was practice for Hermione's 'Coming Out' ball. It was traditionally a young Pureblood woman's announcement into society, where she would make connections and meet future possible spouses. It was also a chance for the parents to show off their children and set them up for their futures. In Hermione's case, it was also to serve as the formal announcement of her true heritage. After Hermione had told Bellatrix that she wanted to give her newfound family a chance to be her family, all the preparations had started. Shopping trips, etiquette instruction, and the dreaded dance lessons. Hermione remembered a little from the Yule Ball during the Triwizard tournament, but she had still learnt with a partner. When Hermione had pointed that fact out, Narcissa had replied with,

"Well we don't have a partner for you right now. Draco is out with his friend, and your father and uncle are at Malfoy Manor. So you'll have to do it by yourself for now."

"Can you not be my partner for this?"

Narcissa looked at her like she had grown an extra head. "I'm a woman, dear; this is a dance between one man and one woman. Besides, I only know the woman's steps."

That had been nearly two hours ago, and Hermione was near the end of her tether. The steps themselves weren't that hard – backwards with the right foot, left foot to the left, bring the right foot to the left, and so on, it was merely the fact that Hermione didn't have someone to support her and lead her around the dance floor.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, this isn't going anywhere!" Hermione snapped in frustration, dropping her arms from the stance.

"Having fun, ladies?" Aunt and niece looked over to the doorway of the ballroom to see Draco and a black boy standing there, watching them with amused facial expressions.

"Draco, darling, get in here! Blaise, you too, dear." Narcissa ordered with a summoning arm. Both boys looked suddenly put-out. Draco sighed and accepted his fate, heading into the room with his head low, whereas Blaise entered the room with a smile. "Right, dear, Draco will be your partner for this." She turned her head to her son. "Jacket off."

"Yes, yes, I know, mother." He shrugged off his jacket and glared at a smirking Blaise. "Shove it, Zabini." He threw his jacket at the black boy, who just chuckled and caught it smoothly.

"You know, I could almost be insulted by this reluctance." Hermione teased, half-sincerely.

He laughed under his breath, unfastening the cuffs of his shirt before rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. "It's not you, dear cousin, I just hate dancing." He stepped up to her, the heels of his shoes clicking on the immaculate wooden floor. He held her right hand in his left, nudged her left arm up his arm and put his right arm around her, his hand on the small of her back. "No, my shoulder." He criticised when she put her left hand on his bicep.

"You're a bit too tall."

He looked down at her feet. "You're not even in heels!" He glared at Narcissa. "What have you been doing with her, mother?"

"The heels for the dress haven't arrived yet, and there's no point practicing in shoes that will be different to the ones that she has to dance in!" She explained.

Draco sighed. "Zabini, you're shorter than me, take over." Draco stepped away from Hermione, taking his jacket back from the boy, and holding his friend's coat when Blaise removed it, revealing a black linen shirt neatly tucked into black trousers. His sleeves were already rolled up.

Hermione nervously assumed the position she had with Draco, shy about dancing with a boy she didn't know. "Do you know how to dance?"

"Of course I do, I'm black." He teased, his voice laced with a thick Italian accent, making Hermione blush a little.

"Blaise." Narcissa chided.

"Sorry, Cissy." He looked Hermione in the eye. "Do you know some steps?"

"I've done the first twelve counts."

"Twelve counts in two hours?" Draco asked in amazements.

Narcissa pouted. "She was stubborn."

"No I wasn't."

Blaise continued. "Just follow me and you'll be fine. Ready? Five, six, seven, eight!"

!"!

Hermione stood on a little stool in front of the mirror in her bedroom as an Elf finished lacing up the corset that was to be worn underneath her dress for the night. Her mother and aunt had regaled her with horror stories from their teenage years, before Comfort Charms had been invented, about how horrible corsets were. This one was surprisingly comfortable, pulling in her waist just a little, just enough to give her a near hourglass figure. Her breasts were pushed up to offer a hint of her cleavage, though was still modest. The Elf finished pulling on the strings at her back, tying them securely before going over to her bed and picking up her dress.

Hermione stepped down off the stool, lifting her feet and stepping into the dress, the Elf raising it around her body with magic until it stopped at the right height. As the Elf fastened the dozens of small hooks which held the dress together on her left side, she admired her reflection and the ridiculously expensive dress. Chiffon, of the deepest purple. Strapless with a tight bodice and slightly looser around her legs. The very top and the line between her breasts were lined with hundreds of tiny diamonds and glass beads, which extended across her breasts like rays from the sun. The rest of her torso was dotted with the occasional bead, going from a high concentration around her chest before thinning out around her hips.

Her hair had been tamed into illustrious perfect curls styled in a half-up-half-down style, falling down her back and bouncing whenever she moved her head. Her face was well made-up, accentuating her natural beauty, not enough to make her seem 'plain' nor too much to make her look fake. Just mascara, shiny lip-gloss and eye-shadow which matched her dress. Hermione couldn't deny that she looked beautiful. And every bit of the Pureblood that she was being revealed as that night.

Someone knocked on her door. "Hermione, can we come in?" It was Narcissa.

Hermione allowed them entry, looking in the mirror to see her aunt and mother enter the room, both looking as beautiful as her. Without the mad hair and tattered dress, Bellatrix truly was astonishingly wonderful to look at. If you really could tell what a woman would look like when she was older by looking at her mother, Hermione wasn't scared of the aging process.

"You look beautiful, darling." Bellatrix spoke softly, reaching her fingers out and stroking her daughter's cheek gently.

"Thank you."

"Are you ready to go downstairs? All the guests have arrived, you just need to be announced, and then the party can start." Narcissa explained.

"Yes, I think I'm ready." She spoke as the Elf fastened the last hook. She took a calming breath, turning slightly to examine her dress in the mirror. "Explain again what's going to happen tonight."

Narcissa smiled. "Your father is waiting at the top of the stairs. He will lead you down, onto the dance floor, and you two will open the evening with a waltz. Lucius and Bellatrix, and Draco and I will then join you half way through. After we have all finished the Waltz, the guests may join in after that."

"Any food?"

"There is also a buffet laid out, with tables and chairs available."

"Am I actually allowed to eat tonight? Or must I be a social butterfly?" She teased.

"Of course you can eat, dear. If you eat with someone else." Narcissa smiled. "You can have a few drinks too, just don't have too many. Do you remember your etiquette lessons?"

"Hard to forget them after you repeatedly smacked my hands with a ruler whenever I got something wrong." Hermione smiled back. The three of them headed out of the room, walking towards the staircase, Hermione walking a little slower due to the heels she was wearing.

"I knew we should have practiced walking more." Narcissa mumbled.

They stopped abruptly around the corner from the grand staircase, the sounds of people milling around now clear to them. Rodolphus stood waiting a few yards away. He turned when he heard their heels clicking and then paused. His Adams' apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed, looking at the woman his child had grown into, seemingly overnight.

"Remember, darling," Bellatrix spoke quietly, "At the top of the stairs, kiss your father's cheek, take his arm and let him lead you down the stairs. Just remember not to hold your skirt up too high, and concentrate on where you place your feet, otherwise you'll land on your face at the bottom. Won't she, Cissy?" Bellatrix teased, clearly telling Hermione that that had happened at Narcissa's Coming Out ball. The blonde blushed in embarrassment.

"That actually happened to you?" Hermione asked with a smile as Rodolphus approached them.

"I'll tell you later." Narcissa smiled, allowing Rodolphus to take her place at Hermione's right side.

Father and daughter looked at each other for a moment, neither of them saying anything. In the end, Rodolphus took her hand, kissed her knuckles, smiled at her and then kissed her cheek. "You're beautiful, sweetheart." She smiled back at him, letting him wrap her arm around his, holding her hand on his arm.

"We'll see you down there, darling." Bellatrix said as she and Narcissa turned, heading back down the corridor and down a staircase which would take them to the back of the ballroom.

"How are you feeling?" Rodolphus asked, leading his child to the edge of the staircase, waiting out of sight.

"Nervous, mainly. I've never really been comfortable being the centre of attention."

He chuckled gently. "It's only for a few hours." He patted her hand soothingly.

From the next room, they heard a loud and clear voice. "Introducing Lady Hermione Narcissa Lestrange, and her father Lord Rodolphus Caius Lestrange."

"I'm a Lady?" Hermione whispered frantically as Rodolphus led her around the corner to the top of the staircase and kissed his cheek as Bellatrix had told her to, taking hold of her dress and lifting the bottom slightly.

He chuckled again, slowly leading her down the staircase towards the applauding guests. "Indeed you are, sweetheart. The title descends through myself; one day your children will be Lords and Ladies."

"I didn't know the magical world had aristocracy."

"We invented it before the filthy muggles. Your uncle doesn't call himself Lord Malfoy for a joke."

Hermione bit her tongue at the slander against muggles, making sure her fake smile never faltered as they walked onto the dance floor and took up their stance. She just hoped Blaise's teachings stayed with her through the evening.

!"!

Hermione stood nervously by the buffet table, glad to have a moment to herself after two hours of dancing and meeting endless amounts of people. Even though she'd had to talk to almost everyone in the room, she had only remembered a few names and faces. There were people that she already knew – Pansy Parkinson, Marcus Flint, Theodore Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and many others. Though Blaise Zabini, who was with his unbelievably beautiful mother Pythia who had the most enchanting purple eyes, seemed stuck in her mind. Rodolphus was nowhere to be seen, probably off conversing with somebody or other. Bellatrix and Narcissa were talking to the mothers of some students in the year above her at Hogwarts, once again shocking Hermione with how different Pureblood Bellatrix was to Death Eater Bellatrix. Lucius was with a 'politician' – meaning a Death Eater who was a spy inside the Ministry – and Draco was dancing with the elder Greengrass sister, Astoria, who was also in Sixth year. Apparently their families were trying to arrange a marriage contract for them, but another family had their eye on Astoria. Daphne, Astoria's sister who was two years younger than her, was also an 'ideal future partner' for Draco, in Lucius' words.

Out of her newly discovered family, for some strange reason Hermione felt closest to Lucius. Even after she had offered Bellatrix a chance to prove herself as a mother, the younger woman wasn't completely comfortable around her. She _wanted _to forgive her and move on, she knew that there was no point in hating her newfound family…But a part of her still felt that her mother had chosen Voldemort over her, multiple times. Rodolphus quite often either didn't know how to act around her, or treated her like a child, like the child he had lost fourteen years ago. Narcissa was simply too girly for Hermione's tastes. Narcissa's idea of a 'lovely day out' was either shopping or being pampered in a spa. Yes, she was genuinely quite a nice person; she just wasn't Hermione's cup of tea. Draco was worming his way into her affections, being quite nice to her and revealing that he actually had a wonderful sense of humour. The one thing that held her back was that he had almost admitted to her that he had been ordered to watch her very closely at Hogwarts. Knowing that every word she would speak, every person she would talk to, every move she would make would be noted by Draco and reported back to her parents unnerved her. In the meantime, Lucius treated her like an adult. He had actual conversations with her and spoke to her in a normal manner. They'd even had the occasional afternoon tea in his office where they would discuss in depth new discoveries in the field of Spell Creation, a topic Hermione was fascinated by. He was interesting to her and was interested in what she had to say, which Hermione valued most in a person.

"Enjoying your party?" Hermione turned her head and froze in horror. Her eyes took in the face, a face she could never forget. Antonin Dolohov stood on her left, too close for comfort.


	21. Chapter 19

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 19**

"Enjoying your party?" Hermione turned her head and froze in horror. Antonin Dolohov stood on her left, too close for comfort. Her eyes took in his face, a face she could never forget. It was just like she remembered from the Department of Mysteries battle; ear-length shaggy black hair, a carefully groomed beard, dark piercing eyes. But he had scars on his face that hadn't been there that night when he'd Cursed her. He smirked down at her terrified face. "So you do remember me." He laughed, snatching her champagne flute out of her trembling hands. "Wouldn't want you to drop that, would we? I do believe it's pure crystal." He put the glass on the table behind them.

"What do you want?" She managed to force out of her throat, although she only spoke barely above a whisper.

"This is your 'Coming Out' ball. You're being introduced to everyone who is a possible future spouse, as well as anyone who may be of assistance to you in your future. I merely wanted to formerly introduce myself to such a beautiful witch." The way he looked at her as he said 'beautiful' made her skin crawl. He straightened up and held out his hand. "Antonin Mathias Dolohov, madam." Hermione didn't know what to do; Narcissa hadn't coached her for this situation! "You extend your right hand, take mine and I kiss the back of your hand. You then say your full name." He instructed in a dangerous whisper. 'Dangerous' as in 'predatory'.

"I-I don't-"

His hand grabbed her hand by her fingers, pulled it up to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of her moisturised hand. His lips were soft and warm, but his beard scratched her skin a little. "I'll let your lack of manners slide, seeing as your name was announced rather loudly when you descended the staircase on your arrival." He kept hold of her hand, lowering it only slightly so they could look at each other's faces. "I think you surprised a lot of people tonight, Hermione. Most of the people in this room have only ever known you as the mudblooded best friend of Potter. When you entered the room in that dress," He leered down at her, "I think every man in this room wanted you. Myself included." He rasped, stepping closer to her.

She flustered. "You maim me, only a few months ago, and now you're telling me that you desire me?" She gasped out.

He laughed. "Not quite. I'm telling you that I want to fuck you." He growled, cupping between her legs with his large hand.

Only a second later before Hermione could even take a step back, his hand was gone, his grip on her hand was gone and he was gasping in pain. Hermione looked down quickly, seeing equally large hands bending both Dolohov's wrists back at awkward angles. She looked back up and saw Rodolphus standing in front of her and next to Dolohov, rage clearly displayed on his face. Where had he come from, Hermione wondered as Rodolphus leant into his ear.

"If you touch my daughter again-" He whispered calmly, emotion only being shown on his face.

"You'll what? Kill me?" Dolohov taunted. With that, Rodolphus twisted Dolohov's wrists, snapping them both with a pair of loud cracks. Hermione flinched. Dolohov's nostrils flared with pain, though he only grunted.

"If you touch her again, this'll seem like a hangnail compared to what I'll do to you. Stay away from my daughter." He growled back, letting go of his 'colleague's' wrists, placing Hermione's hand in the crook on his arm and escorting her away from the glaring man.

!"!

"You didn't have to do that."

"Defend my daughter's honour? Of course I did. In all honesty, I've waited seventeen years to be able to do that."

Hermione smiled ruefully, accepting the crystal tumbler filled with a small measure of brandy. After Rodolphus had 'dealt with' Dolohov, he had escorted her to Lucius' office - the ball was being held at Malfoy Manor seeing as the Ministry was being slow in officially signing over the rights to Lestrange Manor back to Rodolphus. "I mean you didn't have to break both his wrists."

"Well," He paused, sipping his own brandy, whose measure was a lot bigger than hers, "That was a long time coming as well. I've wanted to...Deal with him ever since he cursed you."

"And by 'deal with' you mean-"

"You don't need to know what I mean, sweetheart." Hermione sighed tiredly. "What?"

"Would you please stop treating me like I'm a child? I know exactly what you mean when you say 'deal with Dolohov'. Should you ever feel the need to 'deal with him' in future, you don't need to dance around me."

Rodolphus laughed. "Then shall I tell you how your mother smashed bottles over his head after we had all returned here that night? Or how I had glass lodged in my knuckles after punching him a dozen times?"

"Only a dozen?" She teased as she downed her brandy, grimacing as it burnt her throat.

"Still can't take your brandy." He teased affectionately, taking the glass off her.

"What did Voldemort say to you two after you beat up Dolohov?"

"I told them," A voice from the back of the room hissed. They both spun around to see Voldemort emerge from the shadows, His long black robes exchanged for a set of black dress robes, a tie the same colour as Hermione's dress, "That I didn't mind that once, as long as it didn't happen again."

"My Lord, we weren't aware that You were attending tonight." Rodolphus gushed, bowing from the waist. Hermione quickly stood up and curtseyed.

"I have business with several of your guests; I thought I would come to where they all were. Also, I wouldn't mind a dance with your daughter, if you have no objections."

On the inside, Hermione was screaming her objections. There was no way that she was going to dance with that man! Or creature, whatever He was! How could He even think that she would dance with Him? It was a ridiculous idea, thinking that she would even consider- "Of course I have no objections, my Lord." Rodolphus put his hand on the small of Hermione's back, nudging her forward a few steps. "Shall I find those whom You have business with, my Lord?"

"For now, your wife, nephew and his parents will do; I will seek out the others myself later." He nodded his head towards the door of the study, clearly telling Rodolphus to leave the room. He gave his daughter a quick glance and encouraging smile, before leaving without looking back, closing the door behind him. "You look every beautiful tonight, Hermione." As He said this, she noticed with a sliver of fear that He locked and warded the door.

"Thank you, my Lord." She ducked her head, fearing that if He looked at her, He would see how afraid she was. She heard footsteps approach her, the warmth of a body come in front of her and a fingertip nudge her chin up. To her immense surprise, and relief, what she saw when she looked up was not what she expected. His milk-white skin was now tanned. His bald head was covered in thick light brown hair. His eyes were a deep blue. He had a nose, and a wonderful mouth. He was, all in all, very _very_ handsome. She spoke without realising. "Wow."

He laughed at her, showing her his perfect teeth. "I take it that you were not expecting this."

She stuttered before composing herself. "No."

"Is it an improvement?" He asked, taking her right hand in his left, and resting his right hand on the small of her back as He pulled her closer and into a dancing stance, never breaking eye contact.

"Well…I…It's just…"

"You seem to be struggling to find the words. Perhaps you're wondering what it is you think I want to hear." He brought his head marginally closer to hers. "The truth, Hermione, is what I always want to hear. Now answer my question."

She swallowed before speaking. "Yes, it's a large improvement. I much prefer this face to the other one."

He smiled. "Well answered, Hermione." Out of nowhere, ballroom music started playing through the room, making Hermione look around for the source of the sound. "Take your stance, Hermione, this is a waltz."

"Pardon?"

"We are going to dance."

"When You said You wanted to dance, I assumed You meant in the ballroom."

"Why, when I can have you alone?" Hermione flushed and didn't answer, placing her left hand on his shoulder, waiting for the eighth beat before commencing with the steps to the dance. It was a slower dance than the one she had had with her father. "Have you been reading the books I suggested to you?"

"Yes, I have, I started the last one last night."

"What are your thoughts so far? Have I brought you around to My way of thinking?" He teased, not truly serious as He grasped Hermione's hips to lift her into the air, lowering her back down gracefully, slipping back into the steps effortlessly. Who knew Lord Voldemort could dance?

"If you mean, have I developed the desire to become a Death Eater simply after reading a few books, then the answer is no. I understand now that not everything can be defined as either black or white, but that doesn't mean I want to be on the darker end of the spectrum." She replied honestly and firmly.

He laughed. "I'm almost glad that you were sent away to those muggles."

Now that truly did confound Hermione. She stared up at Him in amazement. "Would You care to expand on that?"

"Despite what many people think, I do enjoy having honest and open conversations with people. But being who I am-"

"People are not always honest."

"No, they are honest; they know what I would do to them if I discovered that they were lying. But with their honesty comes weakness."

"Weakness?"

"They speak the truth, yes, but they say it with forced apologies and excuses. If one of My Death Eaters fails a mission, I would rather hear them tell me so plainly, rather than try to explain their failure in a way that they think will please Me. If you had stayed with your parents, I have no doubt that you would have become a mistress of – how do you Gryffindors put it? – 'sucking up'."

"You Slytherins seem to call it 'paraphrasing'." She remarked as she dipped under His arm in a twirl.

He teased back, pulling her body slightly closer than it had been before the twirl. "I call it weakness. I expect obedience from my supporters, of course, but that often garners 'paraphrasing'."

"So You're saying that You like the fact that I'm…What, opinionated?"

He stopped dancing with her, moving His hand to cup the back of her head in His large hand. "To put it simply, yes I do. But make no mistake, Hermione, I expect obedience from you too."

Suddenly, the door to the library opened, voices entering the room. Hermione almost jumped away from Voldemort, who had changed His appearance back to its normal state, spinning around to look at her parents, the three Malfoys and a man Hermione didn't know.

"Milord." They all chorused, the men bowed from the waist and the women curtseyed.

"Ladies, gentlemen. Thank you for the dance, Hermione; you can return to the ballroom with your father now. Rabastan, it's good to see you again."

"Milord." The new man murmured with a bow of his head.

"You can also go back to the ballroom. Draco, Lucius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, come in. We have something to discuss."

!"!

Hermione walked back to the ballroom with Rodolphus and the man named Rabastan, who hadn't said another word since they were removed from the library. Rodolphus guided them over to the beverage table, selecting a glass of champagne for Hermione and two glasses of blood red wine for himself and Rabastan. As they all took their first sips, Hermione looked to her father.

"Father, aren't you going to introduce us?" She nodded her head at Rabastan.

He laughed. "I'm surprised that you can't _guess_ who he is. You look like your mother; Draco looks like Lucius; who does Rabastan look like?"

Now that Hermione looked closely enough, Rabastan did seem to look a little like her father, with hair of a dark brown colour instead of black, and dark blue eyes instead of brown. But everything else was there. "Well he's clearly a Lestrange."

"I'm the baby brother to your wonderful father." Rabastan teased, sipping his wine.

"Another uncle?" She smiled. "Well it's nice to meet you."

"And the same to you; this is only the second time I've ever met you."

Her eyes widened in surprise as she swallowed her mouthful of champagne. Rodolphus answered her unspoken question. "Rabastan has been undercover since you were born. He was sent south the day after you joined our family."

"South, doing what?" She asked, genuinely curious.

Rabastan waved off her question with a shake of his hand. "Nothing interesting. Tell me about yourself, dear niece. Are you more like my sister-in-law or my brother? You look like her, but is there any of the Lestrange line in you apart from your eyes?" He asked with a smile.

Hermione was about to answer, when she caught sight of something in the corner of her eye. Draco appeared back in the ballroom after coming down the corridor which led to the library. He was paler than usual, Narcissa was at his side, her arm entwined with his, seemingly supporting some of his weight as Lucius was on his other side, doing the same. They slipped along the side of the ballroom, going further into the house down a small corridor. Bellatrix emerged from where Draco and his parents had done, her face a cross between pride and concern.

Just what had happened in there?

!"!

_A/N[1]: As a quick foreword, I would like to apologise to anyone who may have been offended by a joke I made in my last chapter. When Hermione was learning to dance and she asked Blaise if he could dance, he replied 'of course I can, I'm black'. I would like to say that that line was only intended to be humorous and not offensive in the slightest, and I deeply apologise to anybody who was upset by it._

_A/N[2]: For future reference, my 'human' Voldemort looks like Ralph Fiennes, in his mid-thirties._

_A/N[3]: Due to the sheer level of reviews and PMs concerning something key to the story, I'm going to have to give a firm spoiler out and that's something I hate doing, but the amount of people that keep saying this to me is really starting to annoy me; Hermione IS going to be with Blaise Zabini in both this story and the series. Blaise is her one true love. That is how this story will work. It is going to happen. Yes, there will be heavy HGxLV LATER in the story, but not yet. Also, I know we've not seen a lot of Voldemort so far in the story, but that is simply because he's not that important AT THIS STAGE of the story. If you don't like either of these facts, then either stop reading this story or stop moaning to me about it. 'I don't want Hermione to be with Blaise!', 'Where's Voldemort? Why isn't he in it?', 'Make Hermione do this!', 'Make Hermione do that!', 'Make this happen!', 'Make that happen!', 'I want this!', 'I want that!' I'm the one writing this story, thus I will write it how I want and I will put what I want in it. Simples. And relating back to A/N[1], 'my' Blaise Zabini is a black French-Italian. Not a 'dirty Ethiopian' as one reviewer – who I hope is ashamed of themselves for saying that! – called him after ORDERING me not to have the HGxBZ pairing in MY story. Sorry about the rant but my points still stand._

_A/N[4]: We will soon see just how disgusting Antonin Dolohov is. But don't worry, I don't let bad deeds go unpunished…_


	22. Chapter 20

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 20**

Hermione retired to her bedroom shortly before 1am after being assured that it was acceptable for her to do so as most of the guests had already left. As she climbed the stairs to the floor her bedroom was on, she reached upwards and began to remove the pins holding up the top half of her hair, slowly letting sections of it down. She rounded a corner and gasped. There stood Dolohov again, arrogantly leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets.

"You've dance for hours, barely had a chance to sit down, you've no doubt been awake for more than eighteen hours, and you're still gorgeous." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. "Aren't we lucky?"

"We?" She asked tensely.

"Everyone in that room who wanted a piece of you. And there were a lot of us." He grinned lecherously.

"Did my father's actions earlier not discourage you?"

He laughed loudly. "It'll take a lot more than that to 'discourage' me." He straightened up, taking a step towards her. She backed away in fear. He laughed again. "Don't worry, sweeting, I've not come to end this little game of ours."

"What are you talking about?" She balked. "We've interacted twice – first, you attacked me in the Ministry and second, you molested me downstairs; that's hardly a game!"

"I mean that I'm not going to fuck you just yet. Maybe not even 'soon'. But don't fret, little thing, I _will _fuck you; but only when you want me to."

Her stomach rolled. "And why would I want you to do that?"

"Well if I told you, that would give the game away. So whenever you're ready, me and my cock will be ready to give you a night you'll never forget."

!"!

"Won't it be a little awkward? Us all out shopping in Diagon Alley?" Hermione asked she pulled on her outer robes, fastening them up as she twiddled with her necklace.

It was a week after Hermione's Coming Out ball and it was time to do the annual Diagon Alley shopping trip to get supplies for their next year at Hogwarts. The night of her ball, after Dolohov had 'started the game' between he and Hermione, she had rushed back to her room and promptly vomited in the toilet. And for reason unknown to her, she hadn't told anyone what he had said to her. The only thing that kept going round and round in her head was 'what am I going to do about him?' The question had kept her up most nights, making her mind turn and spin at alarming rates.

Bellatrix laughed as she too pulled on a set of robes. "Darling, we've been cleared of all charges by the Ministry; we're free to come and go as we please, especially now that Lestrange Manor has been officially returned to us."

"A clean slate." Hermione commented dryly. Bellatrix chose not to retort. "Well why are we all going?" She motioned her hand between herself, both her parents, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa.

"Because it will be nice to go out as a family." Narcissa insisted, righting her hair after she pulled her robes on.

'Nice' was not the word Hermione would have used. The moment they had all Apparated into Diagon Alley, there were whispers, dirty looks, pointing fingers, even shouts as they all marched down the street, people moving out of the way to stare at the infamous and well-known Dark families. Hermione ducked her head in shame – not necessarily out of shame of her company, but of the arrogant attitude that her parents were oozing, clearly happy that no-one could say a word to them of their Death Eater associations since they were 'legally cleared' of them. They decided that it would be best to separate; Hermione would go with Bellatrix and Narcissa whilst Draco went with his father and uncle-in-law. The ladies would go to Madame Malkins for school robes as the men went to Flourish and Blotts for Draco's books. After they had both finished, they would then swap over; the ladies would go to the bookstore whilst the men went to the tailors. After that, it had been discussed that Draco, Narcissa and Bellatrix had an 'errand' to run in Knockturn Alley. Meanwhile Hermione, Lucius and Rodolphus would entertain themselves in their absence.

So that's how it happened. Madame Malkins was a fairly uneventful trip, after the shop workers and owner were stunned with fear at the appearance of the lethal Bellatrix Lestrange in their dress shop, no-one willing to believe that the only thing she wanted was the best robes for her daughter, who was very uncomfortable with it all they could have owled Hermione's measurements and wishes to the shop and then have the robes delivered to their address. But no, Hermione knew the exact purpose for this 'shopping trip' – to show the Wizarding world that anything could happen; that a known murderess could freely walk down the street without fear of arrest, or that a beloved wandmaker could be kidnapped in broad daylight by Death Eaters, which is exactly what had happened only a few days before to Ollivander.

After the ladies sorted out Hermione's robes, they left the store with their new purchases and headed to the bookshop, briefly passing by their relatives, before continuing on. Once again, the heavily packed shop turned silent as the trio entered the building, all staring at Bellatrix in fear. Hermione ducked her head again, quickly heading upstairs to where she knew her required books would be, wanting to just get this over with. Ducking between the shelves, she quickly found her books, grabbing them and a few others before heading back down the stairs. The shop was now filled with only the quietest of whispers, no-one wanted to make any sudden movements or sounds while Bellatrix was still there, biting her lip to keep her maniacal laughter at bay. Hermione paid quickly, allowed the cashier to put her selections in a bag and then stalked out of the shop.

Could the day get any worse?

Yes.

As the three of them headed out of the bookshop and back into the street, Hermione groaned loudly as she saw Harry, Ron and the other Weasleys only a dozen yards away from them. Her mother and aunt turned to them, hands on their wands, clearly expecting a fight.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted. "What the hell are you doing here? Out for a little shopping trip? Or on your way to torture some innocent people?!"

"Ron," She started quietly, silently begging for him to just leave them alone, "We're just here to get what I need for my next year at Hogwarts, we're not here to cause trouble."

Harry shouted back. "Really? Not here to cause trouble? Well I might believe you, but what about her?" He spat, pointing to Bellatrix, who only raised her eyebrow in amusement. "You don't think she wouldn't love to stir up a bit of trouble? After all, the Ministry's just cleared her and your bastard father of everything they've ever done! What about you? Have you forgiven them too?!"

"Harry-"

He yelled again. "Have you forgiven her for torturing Neville's parents?! For the hundreds of people they killed during the First War? For Sirius? For practically throwing you to the muggles?!"

"Potter!" Bellatrix bellowed, raising her wand at him. Immediately, Harry and the other Weasleys jumped to Ron's defence, drawing their wands too. Other pedestrians cried in fear, running away from the scene. "I will not stand for you insulting my chid!"

Ron snorted. "Your child? Since when was she your child? Since you stole her from the Grangers, after you tortured them into giving her away!"

"What's going on here?" Boomed a voice from the crowd. Lucius pushed bystanders aside and strode into the group, looking from his family to the Weasleys. "Now, why don't we all calm down? Let's all just lower our wands, and say no more about this? Hmmm? No harm, no foul. Wouldn't you agree, Arthur?" He verbally challenged the Weasley patriarch, who looked very conflicted, before nodding and lowering his wand, silently ordering his children to do the same. "There we are. Now, we'll all go our separate ways. Good day to you all." He nodded without respect the ginger family, ushering his own in the opposite direction.

Hermione silently allowed herself to be escorted into a quiet café, sitting down in a seat, putting her purchases on the floor under the table as everyone else settled themselves around her, all buzzing amongst themselves. She fiddled with her necklace. _**'Well done, boys.'**_

Ron Weasley's voice echoed through her mind. _**'Thanks, 'Mione, I'm a good actor!'**_

Harry Potter's voice entered her mind too. _**'Do you think they bought it?'**_


	23. Chapter 21

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 21**

"_**Well done, boys."**_

"_**Thanks, 'Mione! I'm a good actor!"**_

"_**Do you think they bought it?"**_

"_**I should think so. Well done, Harry, invoking Sirius' name. I'm sorry you had to, but-"**_

"_**It's okay, he'd understand. And well done to you, by the way, with these watches, they're fantastic!"**_

"_**Thanks. But seriously, they'd be useless if you two hadn't played your parts as well as you have."**_

!"! June 1996 !"!

"_You're Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange's daughter?!" Ron shouted in horror as he shot out of the armchair he sat in in the Gryffindor common room. It was past one o'clock in the morning, ensuring that the Golden Trio was alone in the room, strong Silencing Spells placed at all possible entrances. _

_Hermione sat quietly in one of the armchairs, her hands delicately folded in her lap as she looked between her two friends. Ron was on his feet in front of the fireplace, staring at Hermione, whilst Harry sat on the armchair opposite her, looking slightly nauseous. "Ron, I know that this is hard to process; believe me, I know-"_

"_Hard to process?! You've just told us that your parents are the most famous psychopaths in history!"_

_Ashamed, she mumbled, "Technically, they're not psychopaths-"_

"_No, they're murderers!" He bit back, turning away from her._

"_Ron," She stood up, "Am I anything like them? Do I act like them? Do I think like them? I'll answer that for you; no, I don't. The only thing I have in common with them is genetics. You both know that, otherwise I wouldn't be the person I am today!"_

"_What about Neville's parents? Because yours tortured his into insanity!"_

_They all sat/stood in silence, the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth cut through the silence like screams. Hermione sighed. "Look, we have bigger problems than that now."_

_Ron scoffed. "Like what?"_

"_Like what we do about it."_

_Both boys looked at her in surprise. Harry spoke for the first time since the conversation started. "What we...Yes, Hermione, what _are_ we going to do about this little 'predicament'?"_

"_We all know that the Lestranges aren't going to be happy about my current...Social standing-"_

"_Meaning that you're a Gryffindor who's friends with the Boy-Who-Lived." Harry clarified for Ron._

"_Exactly. So we can be fairly certain that they're going to do something about that."_

"_Do something about the fact that you're our friend?"_

"_No, about the fact that I'm a Gryffindor."_

_Ron laughed humourlessly. "Well what could they do? It's not like they can have you put in Slytherin!"_

"_Actually, Ronald, they can." Both their faces turned grey as they shouted protestations. She sighed. "Have neither of you read _Hogwarts: A History_?" They stared back at her blankly. She sighed again. "If parents don't approve of the Sorting Hat's decision, they can refute it and present a case for the student to be put into a different house."_

"'_Present a case'?" Harry mumbled. "How would that work?"_

"_Well in this case, they would most likely argue that after word gets out about my true heritage, I would be bullied and shunned by the Gryffindors, so it would be in my best interest to Sort me into Slytherin. Also for the fact that there hasn't been a Gryffindor Lestrange for...Well, never."_

"_But-But Dumbledore can stop them!"_

"_He could, but I'm going to ask him not to." The boys looked betrayed, and she realised how she must have sounded. "I mean that it would be better in the long run to let them believe that they have control of the situation. And besides, a spy is more useful on 'the inside'."_

_Ron and Harry looked at Hermione, and then each other, and then her again, and then grinned. "But if you're in Slytherin, how will you-?"_

_Hermione held up two masculine dark grey watches, and a silver pendant necklace with a middle-sized emerald stone circled by a dozen smaller ones. She tossed the watches to the boys and fastened the necklace around her neck. "Put them on!" She ordered with a smile. The boys complied, and then waited. Rather than explain how they worked, Hermione decided to show them. Picturing Ron in her mind, she thought the words, __**"Do they fit alright?"**__ Ron's reaction was instantaneous. He cried out in shock, clutching his head. His mouth opened and he started mumbling in confusion. Hermione now concentrated on an alarmed Harry. __**"What about your new watch, Harry? Does it fit okay?"**_

_Harry's reaction was much the same. He touched his temples and stared at her. Aloud, he asked, "How are you doing this?"_

_She couldn't hide her amused smile. __**"You'll figure it out."**__ She replied telepathically, touching her new jewellery. Realisation hit the boys square in the face. __**"Try it yourselves. Just picture my face in your heads and think what you want to say, it's easy."**_

_Surprisingly Ron's voice came through first. __**"Bloody hell...This is…You're fantastic, Hermione!"**_

_Harry's voice followed. __**"So you charmed the watches to let us communicate telepathically?"**_

"_**Only to each other and only for as long as we're wearing them. But yes, I did."**__ She kept her face neutral, but her voice was touched with a little pride._

"_**How do they work? Legilimency?"**__ Ron thought, his brow furrowed as he examined the watch on his wrist._

"_**No, a modified version of the charm I used for the coins for the D.A. last year. Anyway, I need to tell you a bit more about them. Firstly, only we can use them; they're tuned into our magical signatures. I've also added on minor Perception jinxes, to stop other people noticing them." **__The boys nodded. __**"Secondly, they have an almost unlimited range, so distance isn't a problem. But they're not indestructible, so be careful with them. Finally, when you're using them you have to keep your face and body neutral!"**__ She snapped, though her face was blank and she stood as still as a statue. __**"People can't know about these watches, and if you're sitting alone somewhere and suddenly start pulling faces, people are going to get suspicious. So keep your faces neutral and act normally. Also, try to keep up with any 'real' conversations you might be having at the same time."**_

"_**Anything else or should I take notes?"**__ Ron asked, with only the smallest of frowns._

"_**Ron." **__Hermione scolded, but her face was still completely blank._

"_**Yeah yeah, I know."**__ He huffed before making a clear effort to school his features. _

"_**Don't worry too much, it'll get easier with time."**_

!"!

And it did. Over the next few weeks, the three of them practiced as much as they could, sometimes in public, other times in front of mirrors so they could learn to control their faces. Another obstacle was learning to control exactly _what_ went through the mental link they now shared; many embarrassing things had been accidentally sent through, much to the humiliation of all three of them. Fairly quickly, 'talking' to each other became less of an effort and much easier, almost natural. Then a few days ago, Hermione told them the next step of her plan; a very loud and very public argument between the three of them, where Harry and Ron would publically disown Hermione, thus making everyone believe that she was no longer the final third of the Golden Trio. She'd ordered the boys not to hold back – it had to be convincing.

Back in the café, which had cleared out very quickly when the two families had entered, Hermione gracefully slumped into a seat at a table in the corner, putting her head in her hands.

"_**What's happening now? Do they still believe what happened?"**_ Ron's voice asked.

"That filthy blood traitor!" Bellatrix screeched, tipping a chair over. "Fucking half-blood!" She kicked over another. "How dare they insult us? In public!" She grasped the table that had been between the two now overturned chairs and threw it forcefully onto its side.

"_**By Bellatrix's rage, I'd say so."**_ She replied. Aloud, she called her mother's name, to no avail. She tried again. In the end she had to shout until Bellatrix paused in her destruction of the café, turning to look at her daughter. "Enough. It's over."

"No it's not. Not by a long shot…" She trailed off threateningly, a mad glint in her eye as she continued her rage.

"Bellatrix, come on, we have to go now." Narcissa spoke up.

Surprisingly, Bellatrix listened immediately. She looked at Rodolphus. "Take Hermione home, darling. We'll join you for lunch."

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, aiming the question to either her mother, aunt or cousin as the three of them stood up. Bellatrix seemed fine, passive even; Narcissa looked uncomfortable and nervous; and fear rolled off Draco in waves.

"Just an errand." Narcissa answered as Bellatrix walked over to her and Draco.

The raven-haired woman glanced over her shoulder to look at an on-edge Hermione. Her eyes flicked to her husband. "Rodolphus." Was all she said in a tone that very clearly had a hidden message under it.

Rolling his eyes affectionately at his wife, walked over to Hermione and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Come on, sweetheart, let's get you home." He pulled her chair out for her, picking up her bags and held his arm out, clearly telling her to put her hand on his arm. The six of them left the café; Bellatrix, Narcissa and Draco heading down the Alley; whilst Lucius and Rodolphus escorted Hermione back up the cobbled street towards the Apparation point.

"_**Harry, Ron; Bellatrix, Narcissa and Draco are heading into Knockturn Alley to do an 'errand'."**_

Harry replied,_** "We're on it."**_

"_**I think I might know what it's about."**_


	24. Chapter 22

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 22**

_Saturday 31__st__ August 1996_

The morning before the journey to Hogwarts via the Hogwarts Express, Hermione was abruptly and rather rudely awoken by someone whipping off her duvet.

"Come on, Missy, wake up!" Hermione jolted awake and shot up on the bed, desperately looking around the room and finding no-one else there. What just happened? And why was her duvet balling itself up? After watching it for a few seconds, Hermione was relieved to see a small female House Elf dressed in a plain black dress twisting and turning the duvet into a ball, and then turning to look at her. "Come on, Missy Hermione, you's get up now!" Out of pure surprise at the Elf's commanding nature, she climbed off the bed and walked to the bathroom. "Now you be quick in there, you's gots lots of things to do today!" She insisted as she carried the duvet out of the room.

Still shaken from her sudden awakening and bossy Elf, Hermione took a quick shower before re-entering her bedroom to find the mysterious Elf manually making her bed – House Elves normally used magic for household chores. She walked into her walk-in closet and picked out a pair of jeans – an expensive concession that her parents had agreed to make regarding her wardrobe – and a top, and started dressing.

"No, no, no!" The Elf hurried over to her and pulled the jeans out of her hands before Hermione could pull them on. "You's a lady now, and ladies wears dresses!" The Elf scolded as she selected a crimson dress and handed it to a surprised Hermione. "Quickly now, Missy, yous parents is having breakfast."

"Sorry, what's your name?" Hermione braved herself to speak, stepping behind a screen and pulling the dress over her head.

"I's Tippy. You's dressed yet, Missy?"

Hermione huffed as she straightened the dress. "You're awfully bossy for a House Elf, Tippy." Hermione commented as she brushed her hair into a half-up-half-down style.

"I's not a House Elf!" She looked at Tippy's frowning face, stunned to see that Tippy appeared to be quite insulted. "Now you go to breakfast! And make sures you eats, you's is skinny, Missy!"

Hermione hurried down to breakfast, finding her parents both in the small dining hall.

"Good morning, Hermione." Rodolphus greeted over his paper. She returned the greeting as she made herself a cup of tea.

"Hermione darling, have you met Tippy yet?" Bellatrix asked, taking a bite of her jammy toast.

"Yes, I have."

"What do you think of her? Do you like her?"

Hermione noticed that Bellatrix seemed to want her to say yes. "She's quite bossy."

"Of course she is; she's a Mammy Elf."

"Pardon?"

"A Mammy Elf. Like a nanny or a Lady's maid. She's going to look after you."

"What do you mean, 'look after me'?"

"Make sure you act like a young lady. Every respectful Pureblood family with young ladies in it has a Mammy Elf."

"So she's like a governess?"

"A governess, a maid, a confidant…She first joined us when you were a few months old; she was always going to be your Mammy Elf. When we were…Away, she had to join another family, but she returned when she found out that we were back. You'll like her, and she'll take good care of you."

"What about when I'm at Hogwarts?"

Bellatrix frowned in confusion. "What about when you're at Hogwarts? Tippy will live with the elves that work there and be there when you need her. All of the other Slytherin girls will have Mammy Elves with them, you'll see."

With that, Hermione knew the conversation was over and that Tippy was going to be staying.

!"!

That night, Hermione was with Tippy in her bedroom packing her trunk, now enlarged with an Expansion Charm in order to account for her now extensive wardrobe, for her Sixth year at Hogwarts. After the 'events' in Diagon Alley, especially the 'argument' between Harry, Ron and Hermione, she decided it would be much easier to order what she needed and have it delivered – while the argument amongst the 'Golden Trio' had been carefully planned out, now that it was all over the news, courtesy of Rita Skeeter, who may or may not have received an anonymous tip that 'something worth reporting might occur in Diagon Alley that afternoon' – there was no stopping someone else with strong views on the Lestrange family from causing another scene.

Now that she had all of her needed supplies, clothing and books, all there was left to do was to pack. Tippy had insisted on choosing Hermione's non-uniform clothes, apparently to make sure that everything she wore was 'ladylike and respectable'. Hermione had rolled her eyes and allowed Tippy to choose out the 'suitable' clothes, as long as she got to have the final say. The Mammy had frowned but nodded and had been in the closet for nearly an hour. Hermione picked up and started folding a pleated skirt when there was a knock on her door. Calling out a 'come in', Hermione kept folding her clothes as the door opened and then closed.

"Good evening, Hermione."

She gasped in surprise and spun around, shocked to see Voldemort in her room, dressed again in a three-piece suit and His human face. "Good evening."

He smirked at the lack of 'my Lord' on the end of her greeting. "Packing for Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Carry on, don't mind Me." He replied, walking around her room, examining the décor.

Half-folded skirt clutched against her chest, Hermione stood dumbfounded at the situation; Lord Voldemort was in her bedroom, now looking at her bookcase, whilst she folded clothes. Unable to shake herself, she numbly turned back around and carried on folding her clothes, laying them out in piles on her Queen-sized bed. Five white shirts, three pleated black skirts, three pairs of black trousers, three black cardigans, three black jumpers – all six emblazed with the Slytherin logo on – three sets of black Slytherin robes, two pairs black shoes, one flat, one with small wedge heels.

He must have heard rustling from within her closet, for He ordered whoever was in there to come out. Tippy emerged and curtseyed. "Who are you, Elf?"

"I's Tippy, Lord Voldemort."

"She's my Mammy Elf. She's choosing what clothes are 'appropriate' for me to wear on the weekends while I'm at school." Hermione explained.

"Well if you's like to be like the white trash Gryffindors…" Tippy huffed, skulking back into the closet without another word.

Hermione glared after her, causing Voldemort to laugh. "Mammy Elves always make me laugh."

Hermione turned and blushed when she saw Voldemort standing in front of the chest of drawers where she kept her underwear, looking at the photos she had on top of it. Ducking her head, she walked over, saying 'excuse me' as firmly and without embarrassment as she could manage, pulling out the whole drawer and carrying it over to the bed. Her bravery didn't last long, until He came over to the bed and watched her transfer her socks, bras and underwear onto the duvet, sorting them into piles. Ankle socks, mid-length, to the knee. Everyday bras, sports bras for exercise. Everyday knickers, boxer briefs, ones she used when her period came.

"You're very meticulous." Voldemort commented.

She blushed at the reason why He had said this. 'Meticulous' was one word for what she did. Lavender Brown called it 'weird obsessive over-the-top organising'. "Thank you."

"Have you selected the books you'll take with you?"

"Not yet. The books for my classes are on top of my trunk, but I haven't chosen my leisure reading."

"May I?" She was shocked again. Had He really just asked her permission to do something? Looking at Him, she saw that He hadn't moved over to her trunk. Realising that He was actually asking, she nodded. He walked over to her trunk, picking up her Hogwarts letter, reading over the booklist. "An ordinary list. Have you read any of these?"

"Most; I've nearly finished the Ancient Runes catalogue, but I haven't looked at the Defence book yet."

"You could probably do most of those spells in your sleep, anyway." He lowered the list, looking through the boxes the supplies came in. "I'll be sure to tell Severus to make his classes challenging for you."

She laughed uneasily. "His potions classes are always challenging."

"Not potions; Defence." He remarked absently.

Hermione paused in her packing. "Snape is teaching Defence this year?"

"He is. Dumbledore has called in a favour from the old Potions professor, Horace Slughorn, who taught there before Snape." He explained as He walked over to the armchair by the fireplace, seating Himself and reclining.

"What's he like, Slughorn?" She asked, going over to her trunk and moving the supplies off the lid. She picked up her letter and read back the list of required supplies, checking to see that she hadn't missed anything.

"A cowardly, weak-minded fool who 'collects' the rich and famous. His only redeeming feature is his skill at Potions making. He's not in Severus' calibre, of course, but he's more talented than most."

"Did Slughorn teach Snape?" She asked, dragging the trunk across the carpeted floor.

Voldemort laughed before levitating the trunk, moving it over to the side of the bed Hermione had been standing on. She flushed and thanked Him. "You only have to ask, Hermione." Her blood ran cold when she caught on to the double-entendre His gaze offered. "And yes; Slughorn taught both Snape and Myself, and many more obviously."

"So, Slughorn must be a good teacher then? To have taught one of the best potions masters in the world?"

"And the Dark Lord." He added with a teasing edge. "Slughorn taught Snape a lot, but Snape also had the raw intelligence to improve many established potions, as well as creating dozens of his own. Slughorn doesn't have the skills or the ingenuity to do such things."

"Wow. That's very impressive." Hermione was genuinely in awe of Snape. She'd always known that Snape's intelligence bordered on genius, but now she knew that he truly was incredible. "What about his skills as a Defence teacher?"

Voldemort laughed. "His spell work far exceeds that of his potion skills." Hermione's eyes widened in shock. Over the past five minutes, her respect for Snape's brilliance had increased ten-fold. Even if he was a traitor. "Do you have all you need?"

"Yes, I just have to select what other books I'd like to take with me." She answered, heading over to her bookshelf, gazing up at the hundred or so books on it.

"Which ones have you read?"

"The ones on the bottom shelves. The top shelves are only for books I haven't read."

They said nothing for a minute before Hermione felt a presence behind her. She half-turned her head, seeing out of the corner of her eyes that Voldemort was no longer seated; He was standing right behind her, His front just about pressing against her back. He wasn't touching her, but His presence was enough to make her skin goosebump.

"_Costello's Guide to Ancient Runes_?" She nodded. He plucked it from the top shelf for her. "_Da Vinci: Magical Exile_?" She nodded. He plucked it from the top shelf for her.

"Do you not have somewhere to be? Something to do?" She asked, turning her head to look back at Him.

"No. Why? Are you bored of Me?" He teased.

"No, I'm just sure the Dark Lord has other stuff to do other than helping me pack my trunk."

"I'm here because I want to be, Hermione."

"You wanted to help me pack my trunk? Why?"

"I'm here because I find you interesting and I enjoy our conversations." He lifted her chin with a finger when she looked away. When her head was facing His, He did something unimaginable. He leaned in. As handsome as His new face was, she couldn't forget who was behind the mask. As He got closer to her face, out of instinct, she blurted out,

"Don't."

He froze, regarding her closely. "Don't?"

"I don't want You to kiss me."

One of His eyes closed in a half-squint and then He laughed. "You see? Fascinating."

"Why is the fact that I don't want You to kiss me 'fascinating'?"

"It's not that you don't want Me to kiss you; it's that you say 'no' so bluntly and without fear of repercussions. People don't say no to Me so openly. And yet you do. That's what is so interesting."

With that, He pulled away from her, leaving her room. She let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding and sat on the bed. What the hell just happened?


	25. Chapter 23

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 23**

_A/N: For anyone who's interested, Tippy the Elf is based on Mammy from the film 'Gone with the Wind'._

!"!

_Sunday 1__st__ September 1996_

Lucius and Narcissa escorted Draco and Hermione to King's Cross the next day. Breakfast has been a seemingly endless affair. All Hermione had wanted to do was go to the train station, but Bellatrix had wanted to talk for the longest of times, often about things that were completely irrelevant. Monday was going to be hotter than Tuesday. Flourish and Blotts was offering a lift-time twenty-percent discount to the person who succeeded in getting rid of the particularly vicious poltergeist living in their basement. Sunset that day was going to be at 7:52pm. It annoyed everyone in the room, including Hermione, but she understood why Bellatrix was doing it; she didn't want to let her go, after only having had her back for a few weeks. It was weirdly sweet.

As the time drew closer to half ten, Lucius grew increasingly impatient, especially since Bellatrix had enveloped Hermione in a tight hug for nearly five whole minutes. Eventually, after being pried apart by Rodolphus, the trio of blondes and Hermione Apparated to a discrete part of King's Cross, the students' trunks shrunk inside their pockets to make navigating through the busy train station easier. Once they were through the magical barrier which separated the muggle world from the magical one, Lucius would then resize the trunks so they could be put on the train by the handlers.

The four of them were a sight of Pureblood supremacy to anyone who understood blood politics. Draco and Lucius were adorned in the finest suits Galleons could buy, their platinum blonde hair immaculate around their strikingly handsome faces. As per the Pureblood patriarch tradition, Lucius had his usual snake-head cane, its green eyes actually cut emeralds, and a set of heavy fur-lined robes billowing around his long legs as he led the family through the crowd. Hermione and Narcissa looked just as perfect, wearing ridiculously expensive dresses and high-heeled shoes, with robes buttoned from their breasts to their hips and open around their bare legs. Both women wore tan coloured light-weight robes, but Narcissa's dress was cream and wonderful in its simplicity; whilst Hermione wore a lacy light purple dress. Narcissa's hair was in her traditional half-up-half-down arrangement, and Hermione's was fashioned in a modified French plait, with the top half of her hair pulled into the braid while the bottom half was free in curls draped over her left shoulder.

Muggles stepped to the side when they saw the four of them stalking down the platforms, heading straight for the wall between platforms nine and ten. Lucius stood aside to allow Draco and Narcissa through, and then escorted his niece across the barrier, leading her after his wife and son down the platform parallel to the bright red Hogwarts Express.

Although Hermione didn't agree with how Lucius had firmly taken hold of her hand and looped it around his arm in a clear display of her new 'allegiance', now that they were on the platform and surrounded by Hogwarts students and their families, she was awfully glad that he had. Judging by the glares, stares and murmurs that were focused on her and her newfound family, she was a chick in the middle of a pack of wolves that longed to rip her to shreds. Fortunately none of them had the opportunity to. Lucius walked her straight to the baggage handlers, took her trunk out of her pocket, resized it on the floor and left it to the workers. He waited a moment for Draco and Narcissa to arrive beside them, resized Draco's trunk and then led them all to the unofficially designated 'Slytherin' carriages which were, of course, at the front of the train and were the most comfortable.

When they reached the entrance to the Slytherin carriages, Lucius gave Hermione a one-armed hug and peck on the forehead whilst Narcissa gave Draco a hug similar to the one Bellatrix had given Hermione. She couldn't head what, but the blondes whispered things in each other's ears before separating and swapping partners. Narcissa hugged Hermione, kissing both her cheeks as Lucius enveloped Draco in a manly embrace, slapping him on the back a few times before releasing him. Both students then stepped onto the train, both mentally preparing themselves for the year ahead.

!"!

When they arrived in the Slytherin carriage nearest the front, there was only two or three other students in there, all younger than them. Draco stood by a booth with a table, waiting for Hermione to seat herself on the bench before sitting himself down opposite her. Hermione didn't wait long before pulling a book out of her bag.

Draco scoffed in amusement. "You really are a bookworm, aren't you?" He teased with affection.

"That's 'Miss Bookworm' to you." She teased back, opening the book at her bookmark.

"Lady Bookworm." He corrected, using Hermione's technical birth title.

"Lord Ferret." She replied, not needing to look up from the page to know that he had smirked at her.

Hermione read for a few minutes before Draco spoke again. "Are you going to read for the entire journey?"

"Probably."

He tutted. "Just like Zabini. Speak of Mordred…Zabini, over here."

Hermione glanced up when she heard a voice approach. "_Buongiorno._" The caramel smooth voice cut through the silence in the carriage. Blaise Zabini came into sight, looking just as elegant as he had done at Hermione's Coming Out ball, dressed in a black suit – what was it with teenage Pureblood boys and suits? – and matching shirt. He looked at Hermione and nodded politely. "_Ciao_."

She returned the greeting and continued reading, absently listening to the boys' conversation. To her surprise, Zabini chose to sit next to her, leaning to the side for a minute before straightening up, placing a book on the table. Hermione gawked in shock when she saw that the book was the same one that she was reading, and that he was further into the book than she was. He glance to the side, obviously also seeing that they were reading the same book, gave a small amused smile, and then started to read without saying a word. And Hermione thought she was anti-social…

!"!

As the end to the eight hour train ride to Hogwarts started to approach, Hermione had to try her hardest not to jump in surprise when Harry's voice came through their mental link.

"_**Hermione? You there?"**_

"_**Of course. What is it?"**_

"_**We still need to tell you what we saw in Knockturn Alley. You know, the Malfoys and your mother."**_

"_**There was another bloke there too."**_ Ron spoke up. _**"Really tall, mad looks. Looked more like an animal than a man."**_

"_**Fenrir Greyback, Head Alpha of the Werewolves."**_

"_**Have you ever-?"**_

"_**No, I've never met him personally, I've just heard of him. So what happened?"**_

"_**They all met up at Borgin and Burke's, and they locked the door and closed the blinds."**_

"_**So you didn't see anything?"**_ She asked, turning the page of the book to make it look like she was still reading.

"_**Yeah, we did. They didn't stay in the actual shop, they went to some storage room. We climbed on a shed to see."**_

"_**What happened then?"**_

"_**Draco pulled a sheet off this sort of cabinet, then he started examining it, like creepily running his hands over it."**_

"_**A wardrobe? What did it look like?"**_

"_**Triangular. Tall, probably eight foot, maybe more."**_

"_**Any carvings or engravings?"**_

"_**It had patterns on it but I couldn't see much."**_

"_**Then Greyback closed the blinds."**_

"_**So that's all you saw?"**_

"_**Yeah. But Hermione…Have you seen Voldemort at all?"**_

"_**A few times."**_

"_**You've seen Voldemort?!"**_ Ron shouted in horror.

Hermione couldn't hide her wince. _**"Please don't shout, Ronald."**_ She turned the page again. _**"And yes, I've seen Him a few times."**_

"_**Has He ever met with Draco?"**_

"_**Has He…Oh, I see where you're going with this."**_

"_**What? Where's Harry going?"**_

"_**Harry is convinced that Draco is now a Death Eater."**_

"_**You what? Why would You-Know-Who want Draco Malfoy to be a Death Eater?"**_

"_**Then why were they in Borgin and Burke's? Furniture shopping?!"**_

"_**Harry, look; I also think there's more to this wardrobe, but even you admitted that what you saw wasn't very clear."**_

"_**What about your ball? You said that Voldemort talked to your mother and the Malfoys and Draco came out looking-"**_

"_**To quote myself, I said 'pale and shaken up'."**_

"_**Yeah, I imagine having the Dark Mark burnt into his arm did shake him up!"**_

"_**Harry!"**_

"_**Well, have you been told what went on at your ball? Or about this little shopping trip?"**_

"_**Admittedly, no. But that still doesn't prove that Draco is a Death Eater."**_

"_**Got to keep it in the family, I suppose."**_ Harry remarked.

Hermione inwardly flinched. _**"Now that hurts."**_

Ron defended her. _**"Yeah, Harry, that was out of order."**_

Harry sighed through the link. _**"I'll talk to you later."**_ Then the link went quiet.


	26. Chapter 24

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 24**

_Sunday 1__st__ September 1996_

"_**Well have you been told what went on at your ball? Or about this little shopping trip?"**_

"_**Admittedly, no. But that still doesn't prove that Draco is a Death Eater."**_

"_**Got to keep it in the family, I suppose."**_ Harry remarked.

Hermione inwardly flinched. _**"Now that hurts."**_

Ron defended her. _**"Yeah, Harry, that was out of order."**_

Harry sighed through the link. _**"I'll talk to you later."**_ Then the link went quiet.

Hermione closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath before opening them and returning to her reading. To her dismay, she wasn't any closer to gaining on Blaise's position in the book. In fact, he seemed to have read more than she had. Hermione mentally cursed the boys for having distracted her from her seemingly competitive reading session. She managed to read for a few minutes before the carriage was suddenly engulfed in a thick black smoke, making almost everyone in the carriage start panicking and shouting. Hermione put her book down and reached to withdraw her wand from her sleeve when she felt a light tug on her braid. The only person who was at a suitable angle to do so was Blaise, but he had no reason to pull her hair.

A thought struck Hermione. _**"Harry?"**_

"_**I'm on the bag rack, up top."**_

A few seconds later the fog cleared and people started to calm down. As Hermione expected, Draco stood up and began asking questions, although it was more like he was demanding answers.

"What was that? Who did it? Did anyone see?"

"Come on, Draco, it was probably just a first year messing around." Pansy Parkinson spoke. She'd joined them just before the train had departed from the station. She was actually quite different to what Gryffindors thought of her; she wasn't madly in love with Draco – in fact, it seemed that she was the only girl in Slytherin who _wasn't!_ – she was smarter than people gave her credit for, and she was actually fairly pleasant. "Come on, we'll be at Hogwarts soon."

Draco sat back down with a huff. "Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school. I'd rather jump off the Astronomy Tower than continue on for another two years."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pansy asked, looking at him with curiosity.

"Let's just say I don't see myself wasting my time in Charms class next year."

"_**See?!"**_ Harry demanded.

"_**That doesn't mean that he's a Death Eater."**_

Beside her, Blaise scoffed. "Amused, Blaise?" Draco snapped. "We'll see just who's laughing in the end."

"_**Hermione, I know he's your cousin but-"**_

"_**Harry, all we've heard is that he doesn't think he'll continue on into Seventh year. That's the only thing we've heard." **_Harry huffed and kicked his leg out in frustration, accidentally nudging a bag a few inches. Below, both Hermione and Draco noticed, the blonde watching the bag move by itself.

!"!

Shortly after the black smoke incident, all the boys in the carriage picked up their belongings and started leaving the carriage, although there was still more than half an hour of the journey left still to go.

"Where are you all going?" She asked Draco.

"To get changed in the next carriage, so you ladies can change in here. Alone." He looked up at the baggage rack as he picked up his own bag and left the carriage.

"Do you always do this?" She asked Blaise.

"It's only courteous." With that, he was the last man to leave, allowing Pansy to lock the door and lower all the blinds with two quick spells.

"Did the Dunderheaded Duo never let you change alone?" Pansy asked, opening her bag and pulling out her uniform.

Hermione ignored Harry's insulted mutterings. "No, we always changed together." She pulled out her own robes.

Pansy smirked and gave a long 'ohhh'. "So you were…You know. With either or both of them?"

Hermione spluttered. "What?!"

"It's just that you three were together all the time and were so close, and now you said that you got changed together-"

"No! Merlin, no! It was never like that! We were just friends."

"But you and Weasel…"

"That's none of your business."

"Hey, hey, I'm just asking." Pansy laughed.

"Well I'll 'just ask'! What about…" She spluttered again, "What about you and Draco?"

Pansy laughed again, throwing her head back. "Yeah, we've fucked in the past, that's no secret. We still do if we both fancy it, but that's it."

Hermione balked at her candid talk. Narcissa had embarrassed her only a week ago, bluntly asking her if she was a virgin. When Hermione had blushed and said yes, Narcissa had nodded and told her to 'keep it that way'. As she'd turned to leave, Hermione asked why. Narcissa explained that it was Pureblood tradition for women to be virgins for their wedding nights. If that was indeed the case, why was Pansy so openly announcing that she had had sex with a boy who wasn't her betrothed?

"What? You're surprised? Most girls our age have done it. Have you? Not with Potty or Weasel, I mean."

She stumbled again. "No, I haven't. Now can we drop this please?"

Pansy shrugged with a smile and started changing. When everyone was dressed, Pansy unlocked the door and blinds. The men came back in straight away, all dressed in their uniforms.

"Where did you all get changed?" Hermione asked Draco.

"The next carriage."

"Isn't that the First years' carriage?"

"Yes."

"So you all changed together? Must have been a squash."

"No, we kicked them out."

"Well where did they get changed?"

"Who cares?" He snapped, sitting back down in his seat, pulling a cigarette out of his inside pocket, lighting it with his wand.

Hermione huffed at his attitude and the smell, sitting back down. Blaise sat down after she had settled in. She noted how he sat just that bit closer to her than he had before. The four of them rode in silence for the rest of the journey, standing up and collecting their belongings when the train came to a stop in Hogsmeade. Blaise stood up first, retrieving Pansy's and Hermione's bags off the over-head rail before getting his own down.

"_**Harry, are you still on the rail?"**_

"_**Yep. I'll come down when everyone's gone."**_

"_**Okay."**_ She waited anxiously at the door to the carriage for Draco to stand up and collect his own bag.

"You go on. I want to check something."

"_**Harry, he knows you're here."**_

"_**I know!"**_

"_**What do you want me to do?"**_

"Hermione, go. I won't be long." Draco insisted, standing up and closing the door in her face.

"_**Harry, I'm sorry, I can't help you."**_

"_**I'll be fine, don't worry. Just go!"**_

Heart heavy with guilt, she swallowed thickly and followed Pansy and Blaise to an available Thestral-pulled carriage. Pansy and Blaise chatted on the way about how their holidays had been. Pansy's family had summered in Wales at her uncle's manor near Cadair Idris, and Blaise, his mother and latest stepfather had returned to his native home in Tuscany along the Amalfi coast. Although Hermione was only half-listening to their conversation. What was Draco going to do to Harry? She knew he wouldn't kill him; Draco didn't have the gumption to kill someone. Not yet, anyway.

The carriage slowed to a stop at the end of the path, stopping right outside the Hogwarts' gates. To everyone's surprise, all the luggage from the train lay in rows on the other side of the gates, several men in Auror uniforms scanning over them with their wands. Just outside the gates was Professor Flitwick, holding a long scroll in his tiny hands, asking students for their names and to present their wands.

Blaise climbed out of the carriage, helping Pansy and Hermione climb out without tripping over their robes, escorting them to the line. They waited their turn for a minute or so before a carriage pulled up behind them, and Draco climbed out. He seemed a little agitated, but apart from that he seemed normal.

"What's the hold up?" He snapped to no-one in particular, eyeing the queue of students.

"Registering, I think. To make sure everyone's present." Hermione answered with a dangerous tone.

He eyes her closely. They said nothing for a few seconds before he nodded with a small laugh. "Well miscounts happen." He joked, looking at the Aurors.

"Then we'll just have to make sure no-one's hiding anywhere. The Forbidden Forest, Hogsmeade village…The Hogwarts Express."

Draco's gaze shot back to hers, fear in his eyes. His face seemed to ask how she knew. Hers merely replied that she did know. Voice shaking just a touch, he rasped out, "The train's bound to have left by now."

"Well if there had been anyone on it, I'm sure they'll be found and returned to where they should be. Right, Professor Flitwick?" She asked as she stepped up to register herself and her wand.

"Right you are, Miss Gran-Lestrange. We have orders to be very thorough with our checks." He replied with usual bubbliness.

"There we are. See, Draco? I'm sure everything will work out just fine." She gave him a dangerous smile, feeling uncomfortable at just how Slytherin the whole conversation had been.


	27. Chapter 25

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 25**

_Sunday 1__st__ September 1996_

Dumbledore's speech that night had been very poignant for everyone. He told the story of a young Tom Riddle, who had attended Hogwarts, sat in the same Great Hall that everyone listening to the speech was sitting in, slept under the same room. He told that the same man, who had changed his name to Voldemort, was currently terrorising the country. And that His greatest weapon in the War was the very students who were being warned of His actions. Throughout the speech, Hermione felt her gaze drifting over to Draco, who sat slumped at the bench, his angular chin in his hands as he seemed to be fighting off sleepy boredom. Just before the speech had started, Hermione had spied Harry hurrying into the Hall, his nose running with blood as he tried to stave off further bleeds with a bloodied handkerchief.

"_**Harry, what happened?"**_

"_**Doesn't matter."**_

"_**Harry, you were alone with Draco and now your nose is bleeding profusely; of course it matters."**_

He sighed through the link. _**"Your cousin is charming, that's all you need to know for now."**_

Dumbledore's speech ended, the silence cutting through the Great Hall more effectively than a bellow. "Now off to bed, pip-pip."

Everyone got up and started milling out the Hall, the newly appointed Prefects calling out directions and instructions to the freshly Sorted First years. Hermione stuck close to Draco, Pansy and Blaise, following them down to the dungeons and the unfamiliar territory that awaited her. The temperature in the castle seemed to drop quite a bit in the dungeons compared to the warmth of the Great Hall.

"Miss Lestrange!"

Hermione turned and grimaced when she saw Professor Slughorn wobbling down the corridor after her, waving his arm to attract her attention. As he drew closer, she plastered a smile on her face. "Good evening, Professor. What can I do for you?"

"I've been wanting to meet you ever since I discovered that you would be in my class." He appraised her closely, then blanched a little though recovered quickly. "My, you _do_ look like your mother."

"Thank you, I've been told."

He smiled again. "I'm curious to see if you'll excel as much as she did while she was a student here."

"I'll prove myself, I promise." She smiled with a small laugh.

He chuckled, his belly wobbling. "I'm sure you will, my dear! I don't know if you've heard, but I like to have the occasional tea party with some students, only the best." He gave her a purposefully over-acted and conspiratorial wink.

"I'd be honoured to attend, Professor."

"Good, good! I'll let you know the date." He patted her upper arm and wobbled off back down the corridor.

Behind her, Draco spoke up. "What was that about?"

She turned back to the three of them and started walking again. "Our uncle told me that that might happen."

"_Our_ uncle? We don't share an…Oh." His voice trailed off as he realised exactly who she meant. "Come on, it's late."

!"!

_Early October 1996_

Life in Slytherin was surprisingly easier than Hermione had expected it to be. No-one said that she didn't belong there. No-one threw hexes at her. No-one insulted her. First years through to Fifth years kept their distance; whether it was from fear or respect, Hermione didn't know. Seventh years ignored her without being impolite; they were, after all, a year above her. And the other Sixth years seemed to want to be genuine friends with her. The girls were quite pleasant, treating her as if she had been friends with them for years, and the boys acted like normal teenage boys around a girl, though the glares Draco gave them made it clear that she was, what people called, 'off limits'. After a few glares, most of them kept a respectful distance, except for Blaise Zabini who ignored Draco's glares. But he didn't flirt with her. He didn't give her long and secretive smiles. He didn't wink at her when he thought no-one was looking. He simply acted…Normal. He chatted with her about their lessons, about books they had both read, told her about his family homes in Italy and France, asked her questions about her life before Hogwarts. It made a change from her interactions with Harry and Ron. Merlin knows she loved both of them like brothers, but it was nice to be around a male who didn't treat her like she was also male, didn't want her to help them with their homework, or constantly ask for advice on other girls. She was mostly left to her own devices, or invited to study sessions where people actually studied their own subjects and didn't ask for explanations to everything! She rather enjoyed it, although guilt niggled at her every time she realised that she was enjoying her new house and housemates.

Thanks to her new study buddies, Hermione actually found her grades improving slightly, although there wasn't much to improve on. Every so often, Snape would ask her to stay behind after a Defence lesson and ask her how she was finding Slytherin life. She would reply that it wasn't quite what she had expected. He would then give her a knowing look and send her on her way. She hadn't really understood the looks he gave her, until Professor McGonagall asked her to stay behind after one of her classes and also asked how she was getting on. She had replied in the same way that she had to Snape. McGonagall had looked closely at her over the rims over her glasses and pursed her lips a little. "Slytherin suits you, dear." Was all she had said before turning her back, clearly dismissing Hermione. Those four words had made Hermione feel like she had been dunked in ice water. Had she really become so Slytherin, after only a few weeks of being in the House? She had walked back to the dungeons in a daze.

Professor Slughorn continued to blatantly favour her and several other students over the rest of the class, Harry and Blaise included. Much to the surprise of everyone who knew Harry, he had miraculously become a top student in Potions class, besting even Hermione and Draco – Snape, who was Draco's godfather, had often given him private lessons to help him excel. Harry was quickly snapped up by Slughorn, though probably just because he was the Boy Who Lived, with his increased Potions skills as a bonus.

That night in the first week of October was the first meeting of Slughorn's favourite students group, nicknamed the 'Slug Club'. Hermione, dressed in a nude coloured silk blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt, the silver chain on her emerald necklace extended a few inches so the bejewelled pendant was dangling between her breasts, slipped her nude heeled shoes onto her feet before heading downstairs to the common room. Draco and Blaise were waiting for her. Draco, seemingly taking it upon himself to act as Hermione's keeper for the year, was 'allowing' Blaise to 'escort' Hermione to the Slug Club meeting, whilst at all time making it very clear that it was 'not a date' by repeating that phrase more than a dozen times after he'd given permission. Draco sat slumped by an open window, a cigarette in his hand while Blaise stood up straight near the portrait entrance. Both of them looked up as they heard her heels coming down the stairs.

"You look very nice, Hermione." Blaise complimented. Draco snorted from the windowsill.

Hermione glared at her cousin before thanking Blaise. "Are you ready to go?"

"Straight there and back, Zabini, no nonsense!" Draco snapped, taking a deep drag on his cigarette.

Hermione rolled her eyes before walking with Blaise through the corridors in the dungeons to Slughorn's quarters. "Has Draco always been so wound up?"

Blaise chuckled. "Yes. Though he does seem more so this year." Hermione looked at him thoughtfully. Her mind flicked back to her Coming Out ball and how Voldemort had spoken to Draco that night and after he had left looking shaken and pale, and then Harry and Ron's sighting of him in Borgins' and Burke's over the summer. What was Draco up to?

!"!

The Slug Club meeting was going quite well. There was a handful of other students there when Hermione and Blaise had arrived and sat down, Hermione 'ending up' next to Harry. Thankfully they both managed to keep up the act throughout dinner – Harry looked angry whenever he looked at her and she looked hurt at his anger. To Hermione's surprise, Neville was there too, on behalf of his Herbology skills, and another Gryffindor she recognised as Cormac McLaggen, who rather pompously revealed that his uncle was very friendly with the Minister of Magic. He seemed to have no other skills. There was a set of Slytherin twin girls, a few years younger than everyone else, so they didn't say much. A boy with disgusting table manners, Belby, had an uncle who had created the Wolfsbane potion. If he hadn't been shoving profiteroles into his mouth during dessert, Hermione might have tried to talk to him.

"So Miss Lestrange, what is it that your parents do?" Slughorn blurted out – he had had three glasses of wine – before everyone at the table froze.

She delicately put her spoon down. "I think we all know what my parents do." After that, you could hear a pin drop in the room. To recover, she continued. "Perhaps you're referring to the Grangers, the muggle couple who adopted me as a child?" Slughorn gratefully nodded. "They're dentists." Everyone except Harry looked confused. "They're doctors who tend to people's teeth."

"Fascinating! Is that considered a dangerous job?" Slughorn asked, leaning forward.

"Not especially dangerous, no." Realising that this story wasn't going anywhere, she wrapped it up. "Though it requires a lot of training and is very respected."

"Wonderful, wonderful!" Slughorn turned his attention to Blaise, while Cormac McLaggen eyed up Hermione and started slowly sucking chocolate off his fingers. Hermione almost gagged.

!"!

"McLaggen was definitely interested in you."

Hermione scoffed as she and Blaise walked back to the common room. "Well it's not mutual. He's not really my type."

"No? What _is_ your type?"

She hesitated. Was he…Surely he wasn't…Flirting? "Why are you asking?"

"Because I want to know."

"Want to know what?"

They arrived at the entrance to the common room. He spoke the password and let her walk in first. He didn't answer until they had climbed the staircase up to the Sixth years' dormitories. "I want to know if I could ever be 'your type'."

Before she could respond, the door to the boys' dorm opened and Draco peeked out. He looked between them suspiciously. "How was it?"

"Quite pleasant, thank you." Hermione answered for the both of them. "Now, I'll say goodnight." She quickly hurried into the girls' room, closing the door behind her.

Before she did, she could have sworn that she heard Draco snap, "What did I say about no nonsense?!"


	28. Chapter 26

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 26**

_Early November 1996_

"Is the Quidditch team ready for the game tomorrow night?" Hermione asked Blaise as they sat with the Slytherin Sixth years in the common room. Draco was purposefully taking up half the sofa Blaise was sitting on, to stop Hermione sitting next to the Italian. She'd sat in the armchair to the side of Blaise instead, giving Draco an amused smirk as he glared at her. In the weeks that had passed since Slughorn's introductory dinner, Hermione and Blaise had grown closer. He had started sitting closer to her, smiling at her, talking to her about topics he knew she was interested in. Pansy had given her some food for thought a few nights previous as they were getting ready for bed in the dormitory.

"Hermione, do you know anything about Pureblood courting etiquette?" She had asked, pulling the covers back on her bed, sitting on the mattress and rubbing her feet with moisturiser.

The brunette looked at her as Tippy brushed her hair. "No, why?"

Clearly Pansy had regretted asking and didn't want to explain herself, so she had shook her head, said 'never mind', gotten into bed – despite having only moisturised one foot – and pretended to be asleep. Since then Hermione had pondered over the question. Pureblood courting etiquette? Was that what Blaise was doing with her? Courting her? Whether or not he was indeed courting her, whether she wanted him to was another story. She had never had a boy make any kind of effort with her, romantically speaking. Sure, Victor Krum had given her a lovely night to remember at the Yule Ball, but as the school year came to an end, he had clumsily explained in his broken English that he didn't think a relationship would work between them. She hadn't minded, and they were still good friends and pen-pals. Before or after him though, not a single boy had paid her the slightest of attention. She found Blaise's attentions truly flattering, but was she ready for a relationship, with everything else that was going on in her life? Or what if he just wanted to do what teenage boys think about all day?

"Yes, we're in good shape for tomorrow." He answered simply and briefly, knowing Hermione didn't like to talk a lot about Quidditch. "I trust you'll be cheering for us, of course?" He teased.

"Of course." She smiled back. "I'll make sure I'm covered head to toe in green and silver."

"Good." Draco put in sullenly. The two cousins glared at each other for a minute before Blaise distracted Hermione by asking what book she was currently reading.

!"!

The match the next day went well. Or terribly. It depended on who you supported. Slytherin were in mourning; the rest of the school celebrated. Hermione had been greatly surprised – happily, admittedly – by Ron's Keeping skills. Apparently during practices he had barely been able to stop a single Quaffle from passing through the hoops, leading him to begging Harry – who was now Captain of the Gryffindor team – to let him resign from the team. Harry had always refused, claiming that he 'was sure everything would go much better during a real game'. And, perhaps miraculously, he turned out to be right, and Ron had stopped every single Quaffle that was thrown at the hoops, letting Harry focus on catching the Snitch, leading to Gryffindor's win of 230-20 after two hours of play.

Thanks to the madness in the Gryffindor common room, Harry had been able to sneak in a Disillusioned Hermione, standing with her in a corner to make sure no-one bumped into her by accident. Ron was standing on a coffee table in the centre of a large crowd in the common room, people chanting his name in worship. Harry and Hermione watched on, happy both at Gryffindor's win and their friend's victory.

"How did you do it?" She whispered.

Harry inclined his head, showing he was listening, but couldn't turn all the way around without looking like he was talking to a wall. "What?"

"Suddenly turn Ron into the greatest Keeper of the last century?" Harry could almost hear her smile. He smiled and pulled out a small vial from his pocket. Hermione gasped when she recognised it as the bottle of Felix Felices that Harry won during their first Potions lesson of the year. "Harry! You gave him some of that? Harry, you could be expelled if-" He shook the bottle gently, drawing her attention to the intact seal on the cap of the bottle. "You didn't open it." She caught up. "Ron _thought_ you had dosed him, which boosted his confidence. But his performance today was all him. I have to say, Harry, well thought out." She touched his arm in support. He smiled back at her and squeezed her hand on his arm.

What happened next shocked everyone. Lavender Brown suddenly got on the table with Ron, wrapped her arms around his neck and snogged him senseless. Everyone in the common room cheered and whooped madly, in the typically teenage way whenever two people kiss in public. Harry laughed jovially and clapped, amused to see his friend wildly snogging a pretty girl. Hermione however, somehow felt like someone had punched her in the stomach, slapped her round the face and squeezed her throat all at the same time. Why, in the name of Merlin, would she feel that way? She didn't even fancy Ron! Or did she? No…Maybe… But Blaise…Goodness, teenage emotions were confusing!

She turned and ran out of the common room, knocking Harry slightly in her desperate need to escape the horrid sight of Ron and Lavender – what people called – sucking face. She ran down corridors, unsure of where she wanted to go, just knowing that anywhere was better than that scene. She came to a stop at the base of the Astronomy Tower, the cold air blowing through the open spaces made her cheeks burn from her tears. As she took a few deep shuddering breaths, she became aware of Harry running up behind her. He said her name softly, took her hand, led her over to the stairs and sat down with her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, her head leaning against his shoulder.

"This is how I feel when I see Ginny with Dean." Harry murmured in her ear.

"No, Harry," She fiddled with the fingers on Harry's free hand, "I don't even think I like Ron that way."

"Then why did you run out? And why are you crying now?" He asked softly in a tone of voice that made it clear that he was making a point.

"I don't really know." She confessed, wiping away tears. They were interrupted from talking anymore by Ron and Lavender running in laughing. They stopped abruptly when they saw Harry and Hermione sitting together.

Lavender smiled like a cat that had just caught a mouse. "I think this room's taken! Got to say; I'm surprised at you, Granger – I thought you were 'too good' for Gryffindors now!" She giggled cattily before bouncing off, presumably to look for another 'room'.

"You two weren't about to…You know, were you?" Ron asked, furrowing his brow in confusion and disbelief.

Hermione scoffed in offence. "Really, Ronald!"

"Hey, hey, I was just asking! But seriously, that would be weird if you did." He commented, walking off after his new girlfriend.

She huffed in indignation. "Bloody idiot." She sighed heavily and stood up. "I have to get back to the dungeons; Draco will give me the Third Degree about where I've been."

"Hermione." Harry spoke softly, taking hold of her hand and giving it a squeeze. "Ron is an idiot. I always thought you were too good for him, anyway."

They both laughed softly, Hermione sniffled and stood up straighter. "Good night, Harry."

As soon as she was sure Harry couldn't see or hear her, the tears erupted from her eyes, the sobs burst out of her throat and she found herself running at full speed towards the dungeons. She'd gotten from the seventh floor to the second when she crashed into Blaise on one of the staircases. She'd barely even noticed as she crashed to the floor, her sobs racking her body as she was helped up and checked over by the concerned French-Italian.

"Are you alright, _cara_?" Blaise asked, cupping her face. What a sight she must have been…Eyes and cheeks red, face wet, nose running. He didn't pay that any mind, merely pulling out a handkerchief and gently cleaning her face for her. After a minute, she calmed down enough to open her eyes and look into his. "Feeling better?"

She sniffed, taking the handkerchief and dabbing her nose. "Not really."

"What's wrong?"

She sighed. "Ron is now with that stupid Lavender girl."

"Lavender Brown?"

"She snogged his face off in front of everyone during the After-Party in the common room."

Blaise looked mildly disgusted. "Not a pretty sight, I'm sure." She laughed. "And you are sprinting through the castle because…?"

"I'm jealous." She sobbed.

He scrunched his nose up in disgust. "Of Brown beating you to Weasley?"

"No. Mainly of the…Of the intimacy between them! Of the touches! No one's ever kissed me like that before, I doubt anyone ever will." She said glumly. Having a thought, she looked up and said, "Would you ever…Never mind."

She tried to walk past him when he held her arm gently. "Would I ever what? Kiss you? Touch you?" He whispered in her ear, making her moan gently. "All you have to do is say the word, and I'm yours." Hermione didn't give reason a moment's thought before she cupped Blaise's cheeks in her hands and pressed her mouth to his firmly.


	29. Chapter 27

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 27**

_Early December 1996_

It was a month after Gryffindor's victorious Quidditch match over Slytherin. A month after Ron and Lavender Brown had become a couple. And a month after Hermione had had sex with Blaise Zabini on top of a desk in an empty classroom after she had seen Ron first playing 'Tonsil Tennis' with the blonde Gryffindor. Normally Hermione prided herself on her self-control, logical thought process and rationality. But seeing Ron and Lavender together had struck a blow deep within her and as she'd been running down the corridors towards the dungeons and Slytherin common room, she hadn't been able to control herself when she'd literally run into Blaise.

After a minute of heavy kissing, Hermione had pulled away, taken Blaise's hand and dragged him down the second floor corridor and into an empty classroom. It had been quick and hurried, both of them struggling with the other's clothing before Hermione had sat on top of a desk with her shirt and knickers removed and her skirt pushed up, and pulled a bare-chested Blaise between her legs. He'd unbuttoned his trousers, slightly awkwardly aligned himself with her, waiting for her frenzied nod before pushing forward into her. She cried out in pain and was ever thankful that he'd waited until she moved her hips a little, signalling that he was free to move. He'd started off slow, basking in her delighted moans, absorbing her every sound before starting to quickly thrust in and out, feeling himself starting to get worked up. Hermione had started to moan and squeal louder, letting the sensations overtake her, giving into them when Blaise reached down and rubbed her clit with his thumb, dragging her into two back-to-back orgasms before he climaxed himself, resting himself over her, spent as they both heaved for breath. They hadn't spoken since.

"Hermione? Hermione!" She snapped out of her erotic memories, looking up from her place on the sofa to see Pansy staring down at her. "Are you okay? I had to shout your name five times."

"Yes, I'm fine…I was day-dreaming."

Pansy noticed the hesitation but said nothing. "Good day-dream?" Hermione gave a hum in agreement. "How were your lessons today? Mine were beyond tediously boring!"

"Mine were fine, thank you."

"You want to work on our Charms homework until dinner?" Hermione nodded absently, pulling the required book closer to her, as Pansy eyed her carefully.

!"!

"What were you thinking about earlier?"

Hermione looked up at Pansy as the latter hung a set of robes over the grate surrounding the furnace in the centre of the dorm. "What?"

Tippy, who was setting out Hermione's clothes for the next day, zapped the girl's big toe with a jolt of sparks. "Young ladies don't says 'what', they's say 'pardon'!"

"Alright, 'pardon'." Hermione snapped. Tippy nodded her head in approval.

"When you zoned out and I asked you what you'd been thinking about. You paused and had to think what to say."

"It's nothing, Pansy."

"Well it can't be nothing, can it? Otherwise you wouldn't have hesitated."

"Pansy, leave me alone." Hermione snipped.

The raven-haired girl gave a half-laugh. "No. Now tell me what it was!"

"Pansy, drop it!" Hermione shouted, earning another zap from Tippy. Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode, the two other Sixth-year Slytherin girls watched the argument from the other side of the room in concern, though remained silent. Millicent was plaiting Daphne's hair. Hermione took a breath and recovered. "It's not something I'd like to talk about, Pansy. Now please stop asking me about it."

"Has yous been up to no goods, Missy Hermione?" Tippy scolded as she levitated the outfit onto the hook beside Hermione's bed.

"Of course I haven't, Tippy."

"Yous best nots have been! Your father wouldn't be's happy if yous has!"

"Not to mention my mother." Hermione murmured under her breath as Tippy left the room with a small 'pop!'.

Daphne spoke up, "Nor would the Dark-" She abruptly stopped when Millicent gave her blonde plait a harsh tug and violently shushed her.

Hermione's head shot up, lowering her book. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing." Daphne insisted, climbing off Millicent's bed, hurrying to her own and pulling the duvet up to her shoulders.

"Daphne-"

"She said it's nothing, Hermione. Now read your book." Pansy asserted.

"No, Daphne just said 'the Dark'. Meaning Voldemort?"

Pansy snapped at the ex-Gryffindor as she got into bed, settling down under the covers. "Hermione, you really are a busy-body, you know. If you're not going to read anymore, then go to bed – the _Lumos_ keeps us awake." She doused the lights in the room, leaving Hermione in the dark.

!"!

"_**I think I'm being watched."**_

Harry's voice came through. _**"Hermione?"**_

Hermione was trying to be discreet as she followed Blaise through the castle. Lessons had finished and dinner was over, but it wasn't curfew yet, not for an hour or so, with a few other students milling around the castle until the absolute last minute. Blaise had taken lately to going down to one of the quieter courtyards, reclining on one of the ledges between two pillars, a book in his hands. He had such a book tonight as he walked leisurely through the grounds, seemingly unaware of his pursuer.

"_**I knew that people were keeping an eye on me, but now I think they really are spying on me."**_

"_**Why, what's happened?"**_

"_**People in Slytherin have noticed that I'm being quieter than usual-"**_

Harry sighed through the link. _**"Is this**_ _**about Ron and Lavender again?"**_

"_**No, Harry! Just listen. Pansy asked me last night what was bothering me, but even when I said it was nothing, she kept pushing at it. Normally she doesn't do that, she just accepts it if I say 'nothing'."**_

"_**So?"**_

"_**Tippy, my Mammy Elf-"**_

"_**What's a Mammy Elf?"**_

"_**Harry, for goodness' sake! A Mammy Elf is like a Lady's maid. She said last night that she hoped I wasn't up to no good, and that my father wouldn't like it if I were."**_

"_**Okay…"**_

"_**Then after she left, I joked that my mother wouldn't like it either. That was when Daphne Greengrass started to say 'nor would the Dark', and then Millicent Bulstrode stopped her sharply, and both girls refused to answer me again."**_

"_**Wait, wait, wait! So those girls are spying on you? For Voldemort?!"**_

"_**It's certainly a possibility. He did talk to the three of them at my Coming Out Ball."**_ Hermione remembered seeing the four of them in a corner of the ballroom, the three girls looking quite scared before quickly nodding their heads and hurrying off.

"_**Did you ever found out why?"**_

"_**No, they said they couldn't tell me."**_

"_**That **_**does**_** sound suspicious. So what are you going to do?"**_

"_**There's nothing I can do. Not yet, anyway. I'll just have to be careful." **_She stopped when she arrived at the courtyard and saw Blaise in his usual space, a book open in his lap as normal._** "I have to go now, Harry."**_

"_**Be careful!"**_

"_**I always am." **_She glanced around before approaching Blaise, standing determinedly by the pillar by his feet. "I want to do it again."

Blaise looked up at her, frowning in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Sex. With you. I want to do it again." She said firmly. She had needed this for nearly a month. As a virgin, she had never been able to comprehend why people were so interested in sex; she had read about it in medical books and it sounded quite disturbing – engorged penises are inserted into vaginas that gush fluids, heart rate and blood pressure increase, temperature rises, pupils dilate and then the whole thing ends with a loud and messy ejaculation of bodily fluids. Why would anyone seek to repeat that more than necessary? But now she understood. And she was now one of those people.

Blaise blinked before replying with a smile, "I won't say no."

"And I want it slow this time."


	30. Chapter 28

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 28**

_Thursday 19__th__ December 1996_

Hermione finished dabbing her lips with gloss, checking her make-up in the mirror on the vanity table in the Sixth-year female Slytherin dormitory. She stood up, straightening her white blouse which was tucked into a high-waist knee-length grey pencil skirt, her feet clad in matching small heels. Over those, she had selected a set of winter robes that were the same colour as her skirt. Her hair, which had grown a lot since the summer thanks to the new lotions that Narcissa and Tippy told her to use – 'a Pureblood young lady should never have bushy hair, darling. Waves and curls, yes, but not bushiness or frizz' – was loose around her head, her curls bouncing when she moved.

"Where are you going?"

Hermione turned around and looked at Pansy Parkinson as she entered the room, flinging her school bag down onto her bed and sitting on it, looking at the ex-Gryffindor curiously. She simply replied, "Out."

"Where?"

"Out."

Pansy grew suspicious. "Where?"

"Out." Hermione huffed.

"Students aren't allowed 'out', except for Hogsmeade visits."

"I'm seventeen now, with a valid Apparation license; I can go where I please." Pansy stood up in alarm. Hermione sighed, knowing that she had just put the girl on edge. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to London to do some last-minute Christmas shopping before I go back to Lestrange Manor on Sunday. My lessons are over for the day, and I won't have another chance."

"Oh. Shall I come with you? I'd like to get a new dress for my mother from Madam Malkin's in Diagon Alley."

"I'd rather you didn't. No offence."

"Why not?" She was visibly suspicious again.

"Because I'm not actually buying…'Clothes'." She forced herself to blush and look away.

"Then what are you buying?"

Hermione lied, "Underwear."

Pansy heard her, and then frowned. "Special underwear?"

"No, nothing special, just my usual."

"You sure?" Pansy prodded. "I know you and Blaise-" She started but Hermione cut across her sharply.

"Blaise and I, what?"

"You know that I know." They stared at each other for a while; Hermione unwilling to back down, Pansy desperately trying not to. "If you ever want any advice, or someone to talk to, I'm here."

Hermione scoffed. "Advice on Blaise?"

"I meant about sex."

As Hermione dabbed perfume on her wrists, she snarled. "You're only saying that to try and make me tell you something. Something that a certain _someone_ might want to know."

Pansy paled and tried – and failed – to sound confused. "What are you talking about?"

Taking Pansy's words, she said dangerously, "You know that I know." The clock struck one o'clock. "I have to go." She picked up her winter robes. "We're not going to talk about this again, Pansy."

Hermione was on her way out of the door when Pansy spoke up. "If whatever you're buying _is_ for Blaise, avoid red. Slytherins look disgusting in red."

Hermione sighed wearily, leaving the dormitory after picking up her handbag, and headed down to the common room. It was a Thursday afternoon so few of the students were there. But Thursday afternoons were when the Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw potions lessons were, meaning that all the Sixth-year Slytherins had a two hour free period. As she arrived at the bottom of the staircase, Hermione saw that everyone in her year was seated in front of the fireplace, making it a little difficult for Hermione to slip out quietly. She kept her head down and walked quickly through the crowds of students. Getting just a few meters away from the door, Hermione stopped suddenly when she heard Draco call her name. She kept the frustrated groan inside, plastering a fake smile on her face and walked over to the group of sofas. Today it consisted of Draco, Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode and Daphne Greengrass.

"Good afternoon everyone." She greeted politely. Millicent and Daphne returned the greeting, Crabbe and Goyle grunted at her, Blaise offered her a small smile and a secret wink over the top of his Charms book, and Draco merely examined her.

"Where are you going?" He asked with a furrowed brow.

"Shopping."

His frown deepened. "I thought you hated shopping?"

"I do, but I have things I need, so I have to shop for them." Hermione resisted making a muggleborn/Pureblood comment.

"What do you need? You could just order it and have it delivered." He pointed out.

She lied smoothly, "It's something I need to try on, to make sure it fits."

"A dress?"

"No."

"Shoes?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Never mind, Draco! I'll see you later!" She snapped, turning to leave.

"Hermione?" Blaise's heavenly voice stopped her and made her turn around.

"Yes?"

"You look lovely."

No-one in the group quite knew what to say. Blaise merely returned to his book, Draco glared at Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle looked at Hermione closely, the two girls giggled and smiled at Hermione, who just blushed, nervously smoothed her robes down and mumbled a thank you, hurrying out of the common room. Draco snapped at Blaise, "What was that for?!"

!"!

Hermione stood nervously at the end of the garden, her hands squeezing the strap of her bag as she contemplated on whether she should knock on the door or leave. After taking a deep breath, she summoned all her courage and approached the house, knocking on the frosted glass part of the door. She only waited a minute or so - any longer and she would have left - when the door opened.

Jane Granger stood inside the doorway, staring at her. In a second, several emotions passed over her face, disbelief, hurt, fear and then suspicion.

"How did we celebrate my 40th birthday last summer?"

"Five days in Venice. Dad bought us both masks."

Neither of them said anything. Neither of them had to. Jane simply pulled Hermione into a tight hug, the tightest and most desperate hug they had ever shared. Hermione's head rested on Jane's shoulder, her arms wrapped underneath her 'mothers' underarms, as Jane wrapped her left arm around Hermione's shoulders, while her right hand cradled the back of her head, stroking her hair softly as Hermione cried. Jane's motherly instincts kicked in, shushing her and gently swaying her child from side to side, pulling her closer and kissing her temple, whispering comforting words. "Come on now, let's get you inside. You want some hot chocolate?"

Oh how long had it been since she'd had her mother's hot chocolate? Too long, if she couldn't remember. Hermione nodded into the shoulder she was tucked into, allowing herself to be escorted inside. Both of them were ignorant to the eyes watching them from the distance.

!"!

"You look different."

Hermione stood at the kitchen sink, her hands immersed in the hot soapy water as she washed the mugs they had used for their hot chocolate and the pots from making the lady fingers which accompanied them. After Jane had ushered her into the house, she had asked her what she wanted to do with their afternoon together, and Hermione had replied that she wanted to clean with her hands, to feel reconnected with her old muggle life – the Lestranges disapproved when she cleaned anything by hand; 'if you clean with your hands and not magic, what's the difference between you and an Elf?'

Hermione replied, "I am different. Like I've been forced to grow up in the space of a few months."

"Are they treating you well?" Jane asked as she dried a mug.

Hermione pondered. "They're not abusing me or neglecting me, so I guess so. Honestly, they're nothing at all like I expected them to be. I almost wish they were. It might make hating them easier."

"Don't say that." Jane whispered.

"What?"

"Hating them will only make things worse. No-one should hate their parents; it takes over your life and leaves you the worse for it." Jane's parents had disowned her when she had told them all those years ago that she was going to marry Graham, a man who was more than twenty years older than her. Inwardly Jane was glad that Hermione hadn't yet come to love the monsters who had taken her baby away from her. On some level she hoped she never would. "How's school going?" Hermione huffed through her nose. "What? Tell me!"

Pulling the plug out, she dried her hands on a tea-towel. "They moved me into Slytherin."

"Slytherin? The house with the people who bullied you for all those years?!"

"That's the one." She muttered, taking out a cleaning spray out of the cleaning cupboard.

"What kind of parents are they?" She murmured. "And the other students, how are they towards you?"

"Grovelling. Always asking me if there's anything I want, anything they can get me or do for me. It's starting to grate on me, and it's only been three months!"

"Have you told _them_ this?"

"_They_ say I should be flattered, and that it should be a nice change from doing everything for 'the Gryffindor scum'."

"Meaning Harry and Ron?"

"Of course."

"How are the boys?"

"Harry is surprisingly understanding, saying that it's good that I'm at least giving them a chance to be parents, since I've only ever known them as Death Eaters. He still hates them, obviously, but he says that they must care for me on some level, seeing all the trouble they went through to get me back."

"And Ron?"

Hermione silently breathed a sigh of relief, glad they didn't have to talk about the fact that her biological parents tortured her adoptive parents into signing away their parental rights. "He's Ron. Emotional range of a teaspoon." Both women chuckled softly. "He says he doesn't really know what to feel about it. He just says that I'm still Hermione."

They both started clearing the kitchen counter of everything, putting the things on the table so that Hermione could spray the surfaces. "So, are there any 'nice' boys in Slytherin?"

"Technically there's no-one 'nice' in the whole house." Hermione paused, thinking about Blaise, unable to contain the smile that spread across her face. "But there is one guy."

Jane smiled knowingly at her daughter's smile. "Tell me, tell me!"

"Blaise." She breathed his name out, certain her face resembled a typical love-struck teenage girl.

Jane laughed. "So he's nice, this Blaise?"'

"So far. He's fairly quiet and always reading."

"Like you." Jane teased.

Hermione blushed as she wrung out a dishcloth and started wiping down the counters. "I suppose. We're having sex."

Jane paused as she put the place mats back into a drawer. "Oh…"

"It's a secret though. Apparently, all Pureblood girls are expected to save themselves for their wedding night."

"And you haven't?"

"To be honest, we didn't really plan on the first time, it just happened. I was upset and he was…Helpful. And after that, it seemed a shame to cry over spilt milk."

The muggle woman smiled. "You say that you didn't plan 'the first time'. Did you plan the ones after that?"

"We meet up on Friday nights."

Jane paused again and then smiled. "Is he…'Nice'?"

Hermione smiled back. "He's a black French-Italian."

"You mean…?" Jane gave an exaggerated wink, which made Hermione blush and chuckle. "Oh, you lucky girl!" Both of them laughed loudly, Hermione rinsed the dishcloth under hot water. "Do you like him?"

She laughed lightly. "I'm having sex with him."

"That doesn't answer the question." Jane pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione hesitated. "Yes, I think so."

"You think so?"

"Well I've only ever liked two men, Viktor and Ron." Hermione pointed out.

Jane thought and then asked, "Do you feel the same way for Blaise as you did with Viktor and Ron?"

"No," She replied instantly, "This is…Stronger. Viktor mostly made me nervous, because he was the first man to notice me and I didn't know how to act around him and he was older and from a foreign country. And Ron has hurt me so much in the past that I always feel...bad around him. Like I'm not good enough for him."

"But Blaise..?"

"I find myself counting the days until the next Friday. And I hate waking up Saturday mornings, because I know that it's nearly a week until we're alone again. Blaise makes me feel...Good. And I don't just mean sex. Good about myself, good about everything."

"So what's he like, as a person?"

"Quiet, worldly, a bookworm, a good student, very polite, compliments me a lot…"

"Do you think something could happen between you two?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Something happens every Friday night."

Jane gently tapped the back of Hermione's wrist with a smile. "You know what I mean!"

"I'd like to think so. We always sit together in the common room and talk. No, we _converse_." She corrected with a smile. "He makes me feel better than I have in a while."

Jane smiled sadly at the knowledge that her child had been upset, even if she was feeling better. "Then there you have it."

"It's not that simple. Bellatrix has already told me that after I finish Hogwarts, I'll be expected marry as soon as it can be arranged. And Blaise might not be the one I end up with. And if they find out what we've been doing, then it will mean a lot of trouble for both of us."

"Then you'll just have to make sure they never find out." Jane gave her adopted daughter a remarkably Slytherin smile, before they both finished cleaning. "You want to make the beds?"


	31. Chapter 29

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 29**

_Thursday 19__th__ December 1996_

Hermione Apparated back to the gates of Hogwarts just after 6pm, carrying her decoy shopping bag in her hand. Inside it was her favourite pair of slippers that she'd always worn every day whenever she was at 'home'; the bag and box were just in case someone asked. She touched her wand to the lock on the gate, which unlocked itself and allowed her to step through, shutting it after she'd gone through. The walk back to the castle was uneventful, as was the trek down to the dungeons to the Slytherin common room. Giving the password to the portrait and stepping through archway, Hermione jumped when Draco swooped in from the side, took hold of her arm and pulled her into a corner.

"Draco! What are you doing?"

"How was your shopping trip?"

"It was fine, thank you."

"Shoes, I see?"

She glanced down at the bag. "You see correctly." She regarded him closely. "Are you…Alright?"

He huffed, letting go of her elbow. "What was that thing with you and Zabini earlier?"

"That 'thing'? You mean when he complimented me and I said thank you? Is that a 'thing' for Slytherins, like a marriage proposal?" She snarked sarcastically.

"Don't toy with me, Hermione. Zabini isn't as sweet as you think."

'_Don't I know it.'_ Hermione thought. She snapped, "I can take care of myself, thank you," before brushing past him and heading up to her dormitory.

!"!

_Sunday 22__nd__ December 1996_

The Hogwarts Express journey back to Kings Cross was a tense one. Pythia, Blaise's mother, was going to be in Italy for Christmas, so Hermione had written to Bellatrix and asked if Blaise could stay with them. Bellatrix, still not aware of what Hermione and Blaise were doing with each other every Friday night, agreed. After Draco had asked Blaise if his mother was collecting him from Kings Cross as she normally did, and Hermione had answered that he was coming home with her, her blonde cousin had nearly blown a gasket.

"What do you mean, 'he's coming home with you'?"

"Pythia is in Italy for Christmas, so Bellatrix said Blaise could stay with us over the holidays. Problem?" She challenged.

"Does Bellatrix know?"

"Know what?" Hermione played innocent.

Draco spluttered. "You're really going to play the innocent card?"

"Draco, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." But the smirk she gave him told him that she did. She knew and she was loving teasing him. It had become her new guilty pleasure. Some could argue that Blaise should be her guilty pleasure, but she felt no guilt whatsoever for their activities. "Anyway, you, my parents _and_ your parents are all going to be there most days, so what trouble could we get up to?"

!"!

Tippy met them all at Kings Cross, taking the three of them directly to Lestrange Manor by Apparation, another Elf bringing their belongings. Tippy had Apparated them into the entrance hall, the two Lestrange parents and the Malfoys rushed in from the living room to greet their children. Draco and Hermione were pulled into hugs by their parents, and Blaise received a kiss on the cheek from Narcissa, handshakes from Rodolphus and Lucius, and a nod from Bellatrix.

"We'll have a visitor tonight." Rodolphus announced, leading them back into the living room and calling an Elf for some tea.

Draco asked, "Who?"

The look from Rodolphus told them all. Hermione sighed inwardly. Couldn't He leave them alone for one night?

!"!

Hermione went back up to her bedroom to shower and change for dinner. As she left her room to head down, she came across Blaise in the corridor, smiling at her. She quickly looked around and hurried over to him, accepting his kiss on her lips. "What room have they put you in?"

"Three doors down, just around the corner. Shall I pay you a visit tonight?" He teased in her ear, kissing the sensitive spot just below it.

She sighed. "I'm not sure, I'll have to let you know. I want to know what _He_ wants; He'll probably want to talk to me after dinner, He has done before."

Blaise nodded and gave her another kiss before stepping away from her and looping her arm through his, escorting her down to dinner.

!"!

"Hermione, would you accompany Me to the study?" Voldemort demanded, standing up from the table as soon as she had put her knife and fork down. He was never particularly sociable or kind, but tonight He seemed to be in a bit of a bad mood, which was never good. She stood up with a look towards Bellatrix and followed Him out of the dining room in silence. When they arrived in the study and the door was closed, He changed His appearance to the younger version. "How has your first term been?" He asked as He sat down in an armchair, motioning for her to sit opposite Him.

"It was fine, thank you, nothing too straining."

"Your classes are going well, I take it?"

"Quite well, though they're not particularly challenging."

"Not even Snape's classes?" He teased, referring back to the conversation they had had before she left for Hogwarts.

"Snape seems too busy to set extra work specifically for me."

That caught His attention. "Busy with what?"

"I don't know. I asked him if he had any ideas on anything I could research in my own time, but he just said no. I haven't dared to ask since."

He rubbed His top lip in thought. "And your activities outside of the classroom?"

"Pardon?"

"Do you partake in extra-curricular activities? I know you're not on the Quidditch team, but is there anything else?"

"I'm in the Slug Club."

He smiled. "I knew Slughorn would want to collect you. Are you enjoying his little tea parties?"

"Not especially. He's quite lumbering and clumsy, and blatantly shows favouritism."

"Towards you, of course?"

"Yes. But I don't like teachers treating me differently for any other reason than my school work."

He smiled as if He found something ironic. "Anything else?"

"Such as?"

"Your friendships? Your…Acquaintances?"

She tried to hide how she tensed. "'Acquaintances'?"

"Yes."

They looked each other in the eye, neither of them saying a word. After a minute or so, knowing there was nothing she could do to change the subject or divert His attention, she stood up. "I'll join my family in the living room. Good evening."

!"!

"What did He want?" Blaise whispered as they lay in bed together that night. Sneaking Blaise into her bedroom after midnight had been easy. They had had a quick and passionate round of sex before Hermione had curled up under his arm, draped over his side as his hand stroked her back.

"Just asked me how my first term had gone."

"What is it about Him?"

"Hmmm?"

"Why does He like you so much?"

"I don't know. And frankly, I don't think I want to."

"You don't want to know?"

"Well it'll undoubtedly be along the lines of who my parents are, or how well connected or situated I am…I don't want to think about it." She threw her leg over his waist and rolled on top of him. "Now kiss me before I kick you out." She teased. With a smile, Blaise did just that.


	32. Chapter 30

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 30**

_Sunday 22__nd__ December 1996_

"Did you notice it earlier?"

Bellatrix sat in bed in the Master suite, Rodolphus sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his socks off. "Notice what?"

"Hermione and Zabini. They just seemed so…Comfortable together."

"They would make quite the couple." Rodolphus agreed, lying down in bed, Bellatrix automatically curling up against him as he extinguished the lights in the room.

"Really? Do you think he likes her?"

Rodolphus laughed lightly. "It was quite plain during dinner. Didn't you notice _that_?"

She hummed thoughtfully. "I think the Dark Lord noticed it too."

"Yes, He did seem a bit…Off."

"You know how He ordered us to make sure that Hermione stayed virtuous?"

"Bella, please don't make me nauseous again with that thought."

"Well who's to say that's why He spoke to us?"

"Well what do you think He meant by it then?"

"Maybe He wants Hermione to have a good marriage in the future?" Even Bellatrix didn't sound too sure on that possibility.

Rodolphus tightened his grip on his wife for a second. "Back to Hermione and Zabini. Do you think she likes him?"

"That was obvious too."

"Do you think it could go anywhere?"

"Well not yet! Not while the Dark Lord wants her to stay pure, at least. But after she's finished Hogwarts, we'll have to look at husbands for her." Rodolphus scoffed. "What?"

"I might be indisposed when you tell her that."

"What, why?"

"Do you not know our daughter in the slightest yet, Bella? You really think she'll be happy about us arranging a marriage for her? Without her input, her consent? Do you not remember what you said the day she was born?"

!"!

_September 19__th__ 1979_

_Rodolphus paced back and forth in the corridor, his hands wringing together so tightly that his bones felt like they were turning to dust. His footsteps echoed through the corridor, his slightly heeled boots sounding like hammers on the wooden floor. Every time he stopped and changed direction, his long black robes swished around his ankles._

"_Brother, sit down." His younger brother Rabastan chided gently, taking a large bite from a blood red apple._

"_Rabastan is right, Rodolphus." Lucius spoke up as he read the copy of the Daily Prophet he was holding. "Pacing will do you no good here."_

_A loud scream ripped through the air from the bedroom which they were all sitting outside of. Bellatrix had gone into labour fourteen hours ago. He had sat with her as she rocked on the bed and paced around their bedroom when she became too restless to sit still, allowed her to squeeze his hand when contractions hit, and rubbed her back when she cramped. After a few hours, Bellatrix had told him that she wanted to carry on alone, tiredly kissing his lips, eternally grateful that he didn't seem bothered by how frizzy her hair was or how sweaty and red-faced she appeared. After he had given her a final kiss, he'd gone to the nearest Floo on wobbly legs and asked Rabastan and Lucius to come to the Manor, mainly to make sure he was still conscious when his child was born. They had arrived shortly after, Narcissa had come through too, but she was making sure the house was ready for the arrival of Baby Lestrange._

_The Healer had informed him that the 'final stage' had started half an hour ago, as had the loudest and most pained of his wife's screams. Rodolphus paled and sat down in the armchair opposite Lucius. "What if…What if something happens? To her? To the baby? To both of them?"_

"_Brother, we can't know that yet. In the meantime, just sit down and try to stay calm." Another scream._

"_Stay calm?" He snapped sarcastically. "Stay ca – How can I stay calm?! My wife is in the next room, trying to push a human being – my child! – out of her body and we're just sitting here!" A third scream. That was three in under two minutes. They were getting closer together. Was that good, or bad? "If I lose her-"_

"_Rodolphus, don't talk like that. Bellatrix is a strong woman; she'll be fine." Lucius comforted. Inside, he was also very nervous though didn't wish it to show. Being honest, even he didn't know why he was nervous. He wasn't particularly fond of Bellatrix – true, she was his sister-in-law and a skilled comrade in their Death Eater circles, but apart from that, they could barely tolerate each other. So why was he so worried? Was it because his wife, her sister, would be devastated if her sister died? Perhaps._

_A fourth scream cut through their thoughtful silence, louder and longer than any of the others. And then…Silence. Rodolphus stood up in terror. The silence…How long had it gone on for? A minute? Two minutes? He was vaguely aware of his brother and Lucius standing up beside him, all of their eyes on the door. And then a blessed noise; a loud cry. A baby's cry. His baby. _

_Only a few seconds later, the door opened and a nurse beamed at them. "It's a girl!"_

_Almost wanting to say, 'yes I know that, anything else?', Rodolphus said, "Is she alright? And Bellatrix, how is she?"_

"_She has ten fingers, ten toes and a good set of lungs. All of our spells indicate that she's perfectly healthy and strong, and Bellatrix is doing well too. We just need a few minutes to clean them both and then you can come in if you'd like."_

_Rodolphus smiled, genuine tears in his eyes. "Thank you. Thank you!" He laughed with joy, allowing his brother to pull him into a tight manly hug, returning the slaps his brother delivered to his back. Pulling away after a minute, he firmly shook Lucius' hand, enjoying seeing his normally stoic friend smile back at him._

"_Congratulations, Rodolphus, a daughter!"_

"_No doubt she'll be just like her mother." Rodolphus smiled._

_!"!_

_Ten minutes later, a sweaty and exhausted Bellatrix was finally handed her new baby wrapped in a pink blanket and hat. Gently moving the covers to the side, she gazed down at the pink face. Not knowing what to say, she simply stared at her, smiling when the baby fidgeted slightly and rested its head against her breast. A gentle knock on the door disturbed her, but she wouldn't take her eyes off of her child. She called softly for them to enter, still looking at her baby._

"_Bella?" She knew that voice. It was Narcissa, her youngest sister. The door closed softly and heeled footsteps approached the bed, which dipped slightly. "How are you feeling?"_

"_Sore and exhausted. But wonderful." She smiled at her sister before looking back to her child._

"_She's beautiful." Narcissa smiled, gently stroking her pink cheek with her fingertip. The baby gurgled and wiggled again, but then lay still, breathing gently._

"_Where's Rodolphus?"_

_Narcissa smiled. "Where do you think? Sending announcements to everyone he knows, telling that Hermione Bellatrix Lestrange-"_

"_Hermione Narcissa Lestrange."_

_The blonde woman stopped speaking for a second and looked away with small tears in her eyes. Giving a small sniff, she looked back and smiled at her sister who was almost glowing with pride. "That Hermione Narcissa Lestrange has been born healthy and strong."_

_Bellatrix gave a small laugh. "He didn't waste any time, did he?"_

"_He's a father now, he wants to brag about his new daughter. And so he should." She smiled as she chucked the baby's chin gently. "I visited him before I came here and I saw that she already has three marriage proposals to choose from."_

_Bellatrix moved Hermione's tiny fist away from her mouth from where she was kissing it and looked at her sister blankly. "Marriage proposals?"_

_Narcissa didn't like the way Bellatrix was looking at her. "Yes, marriage proposals. For Hermione."_

"_Who from?"_

"_I didn't see, you'll have to ask Rodolphus."_

_She turned to a House Elf who was in the room. "Get him in here."_

_!"!_

_Bellatrix had lain Hermione down in her new Moses basket which was placed on a gentle rocker, after having given her her first sponge bath, aided by the nurse and accompanied by Narcissa. After Hermione was squeaky clean, Bellatrix had awkwardly and slightly nervously dressed her in a pink flowery jumpsuit and hat. Normally Bellatrix hated the colour but she had to admit that her baby looked adorable in the ensemble. After Hermione had drifted off to sleep without a fuss, Narcissa had kissed them both on their foreheads and excused herself, leaving mother and child by themselves. Only a minute later, Rodolphus entered the room quietly, gently closing the door behind him._

"_Evening, ladies." He smiled. Bellatrix looked over her shoulder and smiled back at him before turning back to Hermione, continuing to slowly rock the basket. He walked up beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and kissing the top of her head, looking down into the basket. "She's perfect."_

"_She is." Bellatrix agreed, holding her husband's hand on her shoulder._

"_Thank you." He whispered, kissing her again as he sat down on the bed next to her._

_She chuckled. "It wasn't exactly easy."_

"_I know, I heard you. Merlin, you were so loud!" He smiled cheekily, kissing her mouth._

"_Cheeky bastard." She mumbled against his mouth. Pulling away, she pecked his lips quickly before regarding him. "What's this I hear about marriage proposals?"_

_Rodolphus paused for a second before nodding in understanding. "Well when some families had heard that the Dark Lord's most loyal have had a healthy daughter, some sent marriage proposals for their sons."_

"_Which families?"_

_Rodolphus thought for a second as he tried to recall the names he had only glanced over once before. "Um…Pucey for their son Adrian, Flint for Marcus and Higgs for Terence."_

"_How old are they?"_

"_Adrian was born last November, so he's one Hogwarts year older than Hermione. Marcus was either June or July '74. And Terence is nearly six months old."_

"_Any offerings?" She asked as she looked back to the baby who had made a small gurgle sound._

_He sighed. "I don't know, Bellatrix."_

_Bellatrix looked to her precious baby before speaking firmly. "Tell them no."_

"_Which family?"_

"_All of them."_

"_Bella-"_

_She turned to him and glared. "They are trying to _buy_ our baby. No. I won't sell her like a Thestral."_

"_Bella, if our parents hadn't 'sold us like Thestrals', Hermione wouldn't even exist. And look at your own sister and Lucius. There _are_ happy endings to arranged marriages."_

"_I grant you that, but look at the Goyles. And the Crabbes. The Flints. The Notts. The Gaunts. Nearly all of the Blacks. Lucius' parents. My parents. Your parents. The four of us defied the odds by finding love with our arranged partners." She looked back to her sleeping baby in her bassinette, her tiny fist still clutching Bella's finger. "I won't take that chance with our daughter."_

!"!

_Sunday 22__nd__ December 1996_

"Well? Do you remember what you said that day? About how you wouldn't arrange a marriage for Hermione, but let her choose her own husband?"

"Rodolphus, I was exhausted and in pain and hormonal-!"

"Oh, so I can't _mention_ your hormones but you can blame them for everything?" He teased.

She glared at him in the darkness. "All I'm saying is that maybe all three of us should decide on a husband for her. Maybe she suggests someone and we have the deciding voice? Or vice versa?"

"And would you be okay with her marrying the Zabini boy?"

Bellatrix thought hard about her daughter's future with the French-Italian. "No. No, I wouldn't want her to be his wife."

"Because he's black?"

"Really, Rodolphus, don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not!" He defended. "I couldn't care less what colour skin our potential son-in-law would have; it's their families that I'm interested in."

"And you don't like the Zabini family?"

He sighed. "I think it's too late at night to be discussing something we won't even have to start considering for at least three or four years. So goodnight, darling." He kissed the top of her head firmly, clearly telling her that he didn't want to talk about it anymore. His baby daughter would be getting married in just a few short years. Where had the time gone, he wondered.


	33. Chapter 31

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 31**

_Wednesday 25__th__ December 1996_

For a minute upon waking, Hermione felt sorry for the Grangers for every Christmas she had burst into their room and started jumping up and down on their bed, demanding them to wake up. But it had to be said that the way Blaise was kissing the back of her neck and cupping her arse was definitely a better way to wake up than normal, even if it was unreasonably early.

"_Buon Natale, cara_. (Merry Christmas)" He whispered in her ear, rolling her onto her stomach and lying on top of her, his muscled arms supporting his torso as he ground his pelvis into her bum.

"What time is it?" She whispered, resting her head on her arms, spreading her legs for Blaise as he squeezed her thigh gently.

He settled himself between her thighs, the head of his cock nudging against her wet folds. "A little after six."

"We should be quick, they might come in." She moaned out the last word as he sunk himself into her, his cock stretching her as he always did.

He started to move his hips in slow shallow thrusts. "They wake you at half seven; we have at least an hour." He insisted, giving a deep thrust, hitting that oh-so-sweet spot inside her that always made her see stars. She gasped loudly and lifted her hips to his, groaning in protest when he laughed and firmly held her hips down, lifting himself up slightly and starting to thrust faster. He smiled to himself as she gave a long 'gah' sound which let him know that the angle he was using was definitely a good one.

"Blaise!" She mumbled frantically, lifting her hips as best she could under his strength. She wanted his hands on her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples in his special way. As skilled at dirty talk as Blaise was, Hermione was still very shy about vocalising her desires, instead simply gesturing to what she wanted, or using single words if necessary. So when she tried lifting her torso up and letting out long whimpers, Blaise asked,

"What is it, _cara_? What do you need?" She whined lowly, using her own hands to cup and squeeze her breasts over her nightie before she was pressed back down into the mattress. Blaise chuckled in her ear, sending delicious waves through her whole body. "_Ragazza così sporca_! (Such a dirty girl) You need your _tette_ (breasts [crude]) played with? You need me to touch them, to suck them, to squeeze them?" He taunted into her ear. Desperate to stop him teasing her, she gave a big buck with her hips, though he only laughed and pulled out of her. "Okay then, we can't leave you like this, can we?" He let go of her hips and before he could help her roll over, she grabbed his arm and pulled him around to lie on his back with his head on her pillow, straddling him quickly, sinking down on his cock. Hermione loved this position, gravity helping bring her down further onto him. Pulling her nightie over her head and placing her hands on his shoulders, she started riding him wildly, her curls bouncing around her head as she moved. Seeing her like this, Blaise started breathing slowly, not wanting this to end too soon. He loved seeing her like this; passionate, open, unworried by the things she normally fretted about. When she was like this, he knew it was just her and him in the room. But that changed.

In their passions, neither of them had heard the knocking on the door. With Hermione facing the other way and Blaise too focused on her, they couldn't stop it until it had happened. The door had opened. Bellatrix had entered. As she stepped into the room, Bellatrix had been so shocked by what she saw, it took her a few seconds to react. Her first instinct was to draw her wand, but she wasn't going to hurt Hermione and she didn't have the right angle to hit Zabini. She settled for shouting at the top of her lungs.

"_Hermione!"_

The teenagers jolted out of their passions. Blaise sat up, bringing the duvet up to cover Hermione, who turned her head. "Good morning, Bellatrix."

"Don't you dare 'good morning' me, young lady!"

"Madame Lestrange, we can-"

"Be quiet, boy!" She spat at him.

"Bellatrix, do you mind?" Hermione snapped.

"Yes, I do mind, Hermione, I mind very much." She snarled, approaching the bed.

Footsteps ran down the corridor. "Bella? What is it? We heard shouts…Oh Merlin…" Frozen in the doorway stood Narcissa and Rodolphus, their wands drawn as they surveyed the scene.

Rodolphus looked at the teenagers in shock. "Hermione…What's…"

"Hermione, dismount the boy. Both of you, get dressed and be in the study in five minutes." Bellatrix snarled, leaving the room without another word.

!"!

"It's just one thing after another with you, isn't it?" Bellatrix muttered as she stood by the fireplace, staring into the flames.

Hermione sat in an armchair, her dressing gown covering her body. Narcissa had stood guard over her and Blaise as they had dressed, escorting them to the main hall, where Blaise was promptly shoved through the Floo connection to Casa Zabini on the Amalfi coast. Hermione didn't know if his mother Pythia had been told what had happened. The few times they had met, Pythia had seemed to really like her, looping their arms together, laughing together and giving her playful conspiratorial winks during conversations. "What do you mean?"

"First being so stubborn when you first came home-"

"This isn't my home."

"And then you fight about being put in Slytherin-"

"And you still did it anyway."

"And then you go and visit that bitch, and now you've ruined yourself and become damaged goods."

Hermione's head shot up. "What 'bitch'?"

"I saw you. When you went to visit _her_. I saw you go into the house, waited while you stayed, then saw you come out again." All of this was said with Bellatrix still staring into the flames. "I suppose it's my fault really. I didn't forbid you from seeing them. I should have thought of that. Perhaps it was a mistake to get you an Apparation licence while you were still at Hogwarts. No matter now."

The disturbed and whispered monologue put Hermione on edge. "Bellatrix-"

"Listen to me now, Hermione." Bellatrix turned around, the glow from the fire making her look a thousand times more dangerous than she normally was. "If you ever see, speak to, write to, or in any other way communicate with either of those muggles," Bellatrix was now standing right beside the armchair Hermione was sitting in, "I will skin them alive. And I'll make you watch as I do it."

And Hermione knew she was serious. She had to swallow a few times to clear her throat of bile. "Bellatrix-"

Bellatrix's hand whipped out, smacking Hermione right across her cheek, throwing her head to the side. She gasped in pain and shock, unable to believe that Bellatrix had actually slapped her. "Now stay here, I'm going out." She walked to the door to the study and paused. "And Hermione?" The girl turned, still confounded at her slap. "Merry Christmas."

!"!

Hours passed.

The room grew colder, despite the heat from the fireplace she was sitting in front of. How could this have happened? Only this morning she had been making love to the man she loved, and basking in his love in return. And now that was all gone. Or was it? Surely it was. There's no way they'd be allowed together now. She'd not only lost her most precious comfort at school, but she had lost her mother, who she had actually been warming up to. Underneath the insanity and almost-Nazism feel to her Death Eater duties, Bellatrix had been a good mother. And now that was all gone.

Narcissa and Lucius had also made themselves very clear that they were very disappointed in her. Rodolphus had barely been able to look at her since that morning, telling her that it was probably best if she stayed in the study for the day. That's where she had spent the whole day, sitting in front of the fireplace, not moving even when the heat from the flames felt too intense on her skin. Tippy had entered the room at lunch time with a plate of Christmas dinner, trying to coax Hermione into eating the plateful, which had smelt wonderful. The only reason the ravenous Hermione hadn't complied with her Mammy Elf was because of the disappointment, shame and anger hidden behind the Elf's gentle tone of voice. She had also returned at dinner time with a glass of water, a plate of turkey sandwiches and a cranberry muffin, which were still on the plate at Hermione's side.

The fire was dying out, the flames had reduced to glowing embers, leaving Hermione cold. Her arms were covered in goosebumps and she was nearly shivering. But she didn't care. She didn't move. She was still sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace on a slightly prickly rug when her pounding head, raw throat, painful stomach and numb bum and legs didn't want her to anymore. Was she punishing herself? No, why would she? She wasn't waiting. That much she knew. She knew she should but she didn't feel any guilt over her actions with Blaise. She was a red-blooded teenager who had been lonely and upset; he was a red-blooded teenager who made her feel special and gave her something to look forward to each week. Why was that so wrong?

The door opened and closed behind her with barely a sound. The room felt colder. Closing her eyes and shaking her head slightly in annoyance, she knew who was behind her. The sound of someone sitting down in armchair reached her ears. A trail of sparks flew over her shoulder and the fire came back to life, warming her through in seconds.

"I take it you've been told."

"Hermione Lestrange disgracing herself with Blaise Zabini? Of course I've been told."

"Who else knows?"

"Just your family, and his."

"Any word from Pythia?"

"She doesn't see the need for fuss. You two were, after all, discrete with your affections, you used protection, and Blaise is from a good family. French and Italian, but good nevertheless." For a moment, it actually sounded as if He was on her side. Until He continued. "But I have to say, Hermione, I'm quite disappointed in you. I expected more lady-like behaviour from you, going by your years with the Gryffindors."

"And I have to say that I really don't care." She said plainly.

He said nothing for a minute. "Petulance doesn't suit you, dear." She didn't react. "Nor does silent lifelessness. Get over it, Hermione. And move on."

"Move on?" She laughed sarcastically, turning around to face Voldemort. "Why should I have to? Pre-marital sex isn't uncommon nowadays."

"Maybe not for muggles or mudbloods, but the Wizarding aristocracy still holds high regard for virgin brides. It's a not matter of prudishness, Hermione; the magic used in wedding ceremonies bonds the wizard's and witch's magic together, strengthening their bond. Marriages with virgin brides are found to be happier than those without."

"Well what if-"

He laughed coldly. "Before you suggest it, your parents will not allow you to marry Blaise Zabini."

She frowned in annoyance. "Why not? You said yourself that he's from a good and wealthy family, what else do my parents care about regarding a future husband?"

"They would prefer-"

"A Caucasian Englishman?" She snarled.

"Yes, actually." Hermione scoffed in disgust, wiping away a tear. "How did you two even manage to…Partake in coitus?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You're under a Behavioural Contract, aren't you? One that presumably limits contact with the opposite sex."

She laughed loudly, holding her stomach as her body shook with the force of her amusement. "Oh Merlin, don't tell me the Dark Lord Voldemort missed something?"

"Tell me, Hermione, now." He commanded.

"When I read the Contract for myself, it took me less than ten seconds to find the loophole and realise what it meant." She boasted, leaning back on her hands, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"Hermione, you're trying my patience."

"The very first line. '_From this day forward until the 19__th__ of September 1996, Hermione Narcissa Lestrange agrees to the following behavioural constrictions'._ It was as plain as day. _'From this day forward until the 19__th__ of September 1996'. 'Until the 19__th__ of September 1996'_. After that I was free to do as I pleased. Parents of underage wizards and witches can sign contracts on behalf of their children, which is what Rodolphus did the day the Contract was signed. But after my seventeenth birthday, the only way a Behavioural Contract could be used would be if I signed it myself, as I would be classed as an adult. Magical Contracts are all able to detect distress and coercion from the signees, both magical or not. And the only ones that can't, are illegal or forged ones, therefore they're null and void." The more she had spoken, the darker and colder the room had become, Voldemort visibly becoming angrier. Hermione just smiled at him. "Were you hoping to have kept me on a leash? I won't be tamed, Voldemort. Not now. Not ever."


	34. Chapter 32

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 32**

_Monday 6__th__ January 1997_

Hermione walked through the corridors of Hogwarts on the first day back after Christmas, her heart heavy with emotion that she couldn't define. Or perhaps there were too many emotions to define simply. She was amazed and shocked that Bellatrix had slapped her, the bruise taking nearly a week to disappear. She was lonely because not one member of her family had yet to utter a single word to her; even Tippy only spoke if absolutely necessary, unless it was to scold her for something, which she seemed to actually take pleasure in. And, of course, Blaise – her main entertainment and sole comfort in her life – had been sent away suddenly. She was worried for him, just in case her family took action on him for their transgressions. Excited to see him again, even if she had been given strict instructions not to see him in such a way again. Nervous that he might not want to continue their 'relationship'. Depressed that she had been forbidden from ever seeing the people she truly considered her parents, lest they be brutally and slowly killed in front of her eyes. Before she could contemplate her other emotions, a shriek cut through her thoughts.

"Hermione!" She turned around and saw a red-faced, wild-haired Ginny Weasley storming towards her. Harry and Ron were behind her, seemingly trying to calm her down. "How was your Christmas?"

"What do you mean?"

The boys managed to grab Ginny around her waist and arms, both holding her back from Hermione. "I hope your big house was nicely decorated for holidays. Mine was, before it was burnt down!"

"What?"

"That's right! Your psychotic mother burnt my home to the ground! After she and Greyback nearly killed us all!"

'_So that's where she went…' _"Ginny, I promise you I didn't know-"

"Liar!" She screamed, trying to draw her wand, but the boys' grips on her arms stopped her.

The corridor was currently empty but soon enough Ginny's cries would attract attention. As calmly as she could, she said, "Ginny, I swear to you that I didn't know what Bellatrix had done."

"Well what did happen then?" Ron snapped, still trying to hold his sister back.

"Bellatrix and I had an argument Christmas Day and then she stormed off. That's it, that's all I know!"

Harry approached her and asked quietly, "And Greyback?"

She whispered back to him. "I didn't even know he was in the country. Last I heard, he was somewhere in Alaska. Remember, I told you a few weeks ago." Harry nodded, remembering the conversation.

"Wait, what's going on?" Ginny snapped. "Harry, what are you two talking about?!"

Ron groaned loudly. "We're going to have to tell her."

Instead of responding aloud, Hermione used their connection. _**"Can she be trusted to keep it secret?"**_

Too insulted to use the connection, Ron defended his sister. "Of course she can be trusted!"

"_**Ron-"**_

"What's going on?!" Ginny shouted, pushing herself out of Ron's grasp.

"Hermione, we should tell her."

"_**Harry-"**_

"She's not going to tell anyone!"

"_**Ronald, just listen to me-"**_

"No! I trust her! She's my sister, she should know!" He snapped, walking to meet Hermione half-way between Harry and Ginny, who was watching the seemingly one-sided exchange with horrified curiosity. After all, Ron seemed to be talking to himself while Hermione was silent with a face set like a stone.

"_**Ron, do you have any idea how important it is that we keep this secret? Do you know what would happen to me if someone found out? Do you know what He'd do?"**_

"But you said-"

"_**I'm prepared to fight in this war, prepared to spill my blood and the blood of others if needs be, but I won't jeopardise myself when it can be avoided."**_

"_**Guys-"**_

"_**Not now, Harry. I can only help in this war if my role is kept secret, we all know that!"**_

"_**Hermione, you really need to start to start speaking out loud now!"**_

She turned and glared at Harry, snapping at him through thought. _**"Why, Harry?"**_

"Because Ginny's still here!"

The Golden Trio's heads spun around in unison, looking to Ginny who was staring back at them, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What…Is going on?" Hermione sighed quietly and started to speak when Ginny cut across her. "No! Hermione, don't say anything! I want these two to tell me!" She snapped, glaring at one and then the other.

"Ron, tell her if you must, but it can't be here." Hermione insisted. "Lessons end in five minutes, and that isn't enough time to tell her everything. We should meet in the Room of Requirement tonight, after dinner." The boys nodded in agreement, walking over to Ginny as Hermione headed back down the corridor towards the Slytherin common room. Now onto another problem of hers…

!"!

Hermione was on a mission as she marched through the, thankfully empty, Slytherin common room, straight up to the Sixth year boys' dormitory, knowing that Blaise was the only Sixth-year male who had Monday afternoons off. She opened the door to the Sixth year boys' dormitory, stepping inside quickly when she saw Blaise reclining on his bed, his feet crossed at the ankle, a book held open in his hands. He looked up when the door opened and watched as Hermione stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind her.

Neither of them said a word. Hermione took a step forward and unbuttoned her cardigan. Blaise closed his book as he stood up off the bed. She dropped her cardigan on the floor with another step. He pulled his jumper over his head as he walked to her. She toed her shoes off. He did the same. She started unbuttoning her blouse. He pulled off his belt. They met in the middle, still silent. With practiced ease, Hermione reached up and took hold of his shoulders, his hands automatically gripping the back of her thighs as she lifted herself up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked forward, depositing her on top of a dresser, removing her open blouse as she unbuttoned his trousers and lowered the fly. Blaise cupped her cheeks in his hand, kissing her deeply as he removed her bra with his other hand. Hermione reached up to his collar and upturned it, pulling his green and silver tie over it but not removing it completely. Unbuttoning his shirt as she returned his deep kiss, she pulled it off, leaving both of them bare-chested except for his tie as he pulled her to the edge of the dresser.

Taking hold of the tie in one hand, Hermione gripped Blaise's hip in her other, pulling him forward in between her legs. With a low growl, he lifted under her bum with one arm as the other swiftly pulled her underwear down her legs. She spread her legs and pulled his head down to hers using the tie, planting her lips on his as he pulled his cock out of his trousers and surged into her, bringing long moans from both of them.

They set a quick pace, the dresser squeaking its protests as it moved back and forth in time to Blaise's thrusts. Blaise kissed down Hermione's chin, along her jaw until he reached her neck, kissing and nibbling as he knew she liked.

"No." She protested, nudging his head away from her neck.

He frowned at her, never breaking his rhythm. "No?"

"Can't leave marks." She explained.

He accepted this without complaint, craning his neck down to her breast and latched on to a nipple, sucking and nipping hard enough to make Hermione gasp and moan in seconds. Neither of them knew or cared how long they maintained their rhythm, not in any particular rush to have this coupling finish quickly. When Hermione's hair started to frizz and sweat began forming on Blaise' brow, they both knew they wouldn't last much longer. Determined to give her his all, Blaise carried her over to his bed, not pulling out of her, lying her down on the sheets and then picked up his pace ten-fold, earning screams from her pale throat.

Hermione felt the knot in her stomach begin to tighten, signalling that her climax was imminent. She raked her nails down his side, uncaring about what she said earlier about no marks. Blaise grunted as her nails dug in, the pain only making him more determined to give her her best orgasm yet. Taking hold of both her wrists in one hand, he pressed them firmly into the mattress above their heads as he rested his weight on his elbow, he reached down between them and pinched her clit firmly, making her wail in ecstasy until she realised that he was halting her orgasm.

"No, Blaise!" She tried to reach down to slap his hand away, but his grip on her wrists was too firm, rendering her immobile under his strong thrusts. "Blaise!"

"Say please." He whispered in her ear as he took the soft lobe into his mouth.

She groaned gutturally. "Please, Blaise!"

"Pretty please?" He teased, switching to her other ear.

"Yes, damnit!"

He chuckled. "All you had to do was say please." Before she could snap back at him, he released her clit, the blood rushing back to it making her orgasm crash down upon her as she bucked wildly under him. He watched her in all her beauty, committing the image to memory as he gave in to his own end.

!"!

Blaise reclined on his bed, the top sheet of his covers lazily draped over his waist as he watched Hermione get dressed. A question was burning a hole in his gut, a question he desperately needed to ask but was afraid of the answer. As Hermione stood up off the bed from where she had sat fastening her shoes and went into the bathroom to find a comb, the words forced themselves up his throat.

"Hermione?" She hummed back in response as he heard her looking through his bathroom supplies. "Was this goodbye?" All sounds from the bathroom stopped and she stood in the doorway with a face like thunder.

"What?"

"Was this," He gestured to the lower half of his body, "Your way of saying goodbye?"

She said nothing as she walked back over to the bed, ripped back the sheet covering his pelvis and straddled him, her skirt flowing around them. "Do you really think I'm going to give you up?"

"But your family-" He protested even as both of them felt him hardening underneath her.

"To hell with them. I've not finished with you yet. Not by a long shot."


	35. Chapter 33

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 33**

_Monday 6__th__ January 1997_

"Are you seriously telling me," Ginny snapped incredulously, "That you three haven't actually fallen out, that you only had to appear to fall out because of Hermione's family, whom she's spying on, and that you've been communicating telepathically all summer?" Ginny stood with her hands on her hips glaring between Harry, Ron and Hermione. The four of them were hidden away in the Room of Requirement, the only place they couldn't be overheard.

"Yes, Ginny, that's right." Hermione replied calmly.

They had all been in the room for nearly an hour, the three of them trying to explain to Ginny, who was sometimes too stubborn for her own good, that what they were saying was true. They had managed to get through to her by having Ron stand behind her as she counted off different numbers with her fingers as a blindfolded Harry called out the correct number every time, Ron telling him through the telepathy what number Ginny was making with her digits. After five whole minutes Ginny had been rendered into a stunned silence.

"But why? Why the pretending, and the secrecy, and the watches and necklace?"

"Ginny, think about who I'm related to, and who they avidly support in the war. I can't be seen to be even talking to Harry or Ron or any of my old friends. If I were, then who knows what _They'd_ do. Don't forget; my parents were tried and convicted for abduction, torture, murder and a dozen other crimes, with witnesses and evidence against them. And now they can walk down Diagon Alley and no-one can touch them."

Ron spoke up in confusion. "But that's because of the Ministry-"

"Yes, Ronald!" She barked in annoyance. "Don't you see? They can parade around now because they have been cleared by the _Ministry_ _of Magic_." The three of them looked at her blankly. She sighed. "The Ministry of Magic, the most powerful organisation in the country, completely cleared the names of two of the most infamous and deadly Death Eaters of all time." She elaborated with an expectant look to the three of them. They continued to stare back at her. "Honestly, how can you not have understood what I'm trying to say?"

"Hermione, just spit it out." Ginny snapped.

"Voldemort and the Death Eaters have control of the Ministry." She stated clearly, listening to the three of them panic. "How could you have not known that?" She cried. "All those people going missing during the summer and even before that…All those _Ministry workers_ going missing and being replaced…" With unspoken gratitude she saw that her message was now sinking in. "The fall of the Ministry has been a long time in the making, designed to be so subtle that most of the public would miss it completely."

Harry voiced, "Until it's too late."

Hermione nodded. "Until it's too late. Only when everything is arranged as perfectly as a chess board, will the Ministry be revealed for what it really is now – a set of puppets on strings being controlled by Him."

"But why?" Ron questioned. "That isn't how He did it before, dad said. There's still newspaper clippings of how Voldemort basically just declared war on muggleborns and the 'Light' wizards."

"You mean the war in which Voldemort and His followers were all defeated and either incarcerated, killed or forced into hiding?" Hermione raised an eyebrow in sarcasm.

"Yeah, good point."

"This is a different war, being approached differently. Last time, Voldemort was so eager to overthrow society and start His own that even He didn't plan things through completely. He assumed that His views were shared by everyone in the country and that He was only saying what they were all thinking, and that whatever resistance there might have been would have been small enough to be defeated quickly."

"Didn't quite work out that way." Ginny half-laughed.

"Exactly. So this time, it's all being arranged to the finest detail. People go missing, new people replace them, backroom deals, bribes, threats, assassinations…"

"And during the first year after His return, Fudge was too paranoid and scared to admit the truth and start the fight against Him." Harry chipped in, absently rubbing the back of his left hand which still bore the scars inflicted on him by Umbridge when she was the DADA teacher.

"Exactly." They all had a few moments of silence to absorb everything. "In answer to your earlier question, Ginny; we're being secretive because we have to be, in order to survive this war for as long as we can."

"What if they find out that you're spying on Voldemort and your family?"

Hermione shrugged tiredly. "Then that's what will happen. And we'll have to deal with it."

"You don't think that they'd-"

"Torture and kill me?" Ginny nodded with a gulp. "I don't think Bellatrix would let them. Well I hope she wouldn't. Who knows? She might even take it upon herself – the Black family isn't known for being lenient with blood traitors."

"But she's your mother!" Harry protested.

Hermione signed. "Harry…My mother is not like yours. Your mother died for you. Mine didn't even want me to begin with, she was going to have an abortion!" The three of them looked at her in shock, they hadn't known that fact. "We can't trust anyone else, we have to do this ourselves. So Ginny, are you with us or not?"

Ginny looked at both of the boys and then locked eyes with Hermione. "Have you got another necklace?"

!"!

_Friday February 14__th__ 1997_

Hermione stood in front of a sink in the Gryffindor Prefect bathroom late at night, brushing her teeth. Dumbledore had called her to his office that afternoon. They had talked for over an hour, all without saying a word out loud. She had lowered her Occlumency walls for the Headmaster, letting them communicate mentally with each other. They discussed a large variety of topics; Ginny's new involvement with the Trio's plans, possible future outcomes of the war, what either of them thought the Ministry's next step could be, and her family. She told him what had transpired on Christmas Day. He had nodded thoughtfully, stroking his long white beard. Hermione's heart had lightened considerably when Dumbledore hadn't been in the least bit judgemental about her and Blaise's secret relationship. In fact, it turned out that Dumbledore was quite a romantic, and likened the teens' love to a modern Romeo and Juliet. He had told her, in the strictest confidence, that Filch always finished his rounds of the castle by 1am every night – even if he hadn't finished searching the whole building – that the Prefects who do the night shifts also finish by one, and that anywhere in the castle would then be accessible every night. He followed his mental speech with a wink over the rim of his tea cup. Hermione had smiled at the knowledge he had just given her.

"Hermione?"

She smiled at her reflection in the mirror in front of her as she heard the soft voice call out to her from behind. Rinsing her mouth out and washing her toothbrush, she turned and smiled at Blaise as he lounged on the bench in the enormous sunken bathtub that was the size of small swimming pool. Sliding off her dressing gown and letting it pool to the floor behind her, she slid into the warm water next to the Italian.

"_Buona sera_." He smiled at her good pronunciation, puckering his lips to receive her kiss as she roped her arms around his neck, kneeling on the bench next to him. They kissed lazily for a minutes, Hermione pulling away first. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired, _cara_, it's past one in the morning."

"How tired are you?" She whispered in his ear as she threw her leg over his hip, settling herself in his lap.

He growled next to her ear, nipping the soft lobe. "Never too tired."

Hermione laughed gently next to his ear. "Happy Valentine's Day."


	36. Chapter 34

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 34**

_May 1997_

"Something's going to happen." Hermione mused aloud in the Headmaster's office. She was on her feet, leaning against the stone wall and staring out of a window into the dark sky beyond it.

Dumbledore was sat at his desk, examining a collection of quills on his desk. He looked up at her as she spoke. She had been silent for over an hour. "I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific, Miss Lestrange. My mind is not as sharp as it once was."

"Please, Headmaster, your mind's as sharp as ever." She turned her head, student and teacher looking at each other and smiling. "With Hogwarts. Something's going to happen." She looked back out the window, looking past her own reflection. "He has plans."

"Plans, Miss Lestrange?"

"New lessons, curriculums, Death Eaters lined up for teaching positions…He means to take Hogwarts for His own."

Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully. "Yes, Tom has always wanted to be influential at Hogwarts. It started in His Fifth year here as a Prefect, then Head Boy, and then when He applied for the Defence teacher position."

"And you wisely declined?" She smiled.

"My dear, I didn't become Headmaster until Master Dippet retired in 1956." He reminded her gently, sensing she was distracted and pensive. "Headmaster Dippet refused Tom the job because of his young age, and because Tom had little worldly experience."

"But I thought Dippet liked Him?"

"That he did. That was why Tom took the rejection so harshly; He had always had Dippet wrapped around His little finger." Hermione hummed thoughtfully, sitting down in the chair opposite the professor's desk. "How do you know of Tom's plans for Hogwarts?"

"I saw them. In the library in Lestrange Manor over Easter break. Bellatrix was-slash-is still upset over Blaise and I-"

"I thought you had so far managed to keep your reconciliation a secret?"

"So far we have. But she's still furious with me for 'spoiling myself with a boy unworthy of my affections'." She smiled ruefully as she quoted her mother's words. Dumbledore gave her a sad smile back. "Anyway. I avoided her most of the break, staying in the library to revise for exams. Then one day, He was in there too…"

!"!

_April 2__nd__ 1997_

_Hermione had just had breakfast by herself in her room – dinner the night before had been a horrible and tense affair, with Bellatrix still bringing up Blaise, Hermione getting upset, Rodolphus and Lucius trying to keep the peace, Narcissa trying to calm Bellatrix down while still making it clear to Hermione that she agreed with her sister, and Draco sitting there looking uncomfortable and troubled – when she entered the library and closed the door behind her. She headed over to her preferred corner of the room, but halted when she walked around a corner. Voldemort sat in 'her' cushioned alcove, dozens of pieces of parchment spread out on the floor in front of Him as He looked over them carefully. Hermione tried to hide her fear when she saw that Nagini was on the floor next to her Master's feet. The giant snake lifted her head when she also saw Hermione, making a happy hissing sound. Voldemort looked up as she came around the corner, and smiled as His face changed into His Tom Riddle persona, something He only did for her. Hermione knew it should be taken as a compliment, but just couldn't think of it as such seeing as she knew why He did it. _

"_Good morning, Hermione. Still an early bird, I see."_

"_Good morning." She greeted back, bobbing her head – the only sign of respect she could allow herself to do. She wouldn't curtsey to Him and she refused to say 'my Lord'. Thankfully He still found her defiance amusing. Merlin help her the day He becomes annoyed by it._

"_Are you here to study for your exams?"_

"_Yes I am."_

"_What's on the agenda for today?"_

"_Transfiguration, inanimate to animate."_

"_Always my least favourite subject when I was at school…" He mused._

_She didn't try to stop the words coming out of her mouth. "Because you didn't like the subject, or because Professor Dumbledore was your teacher?"_

_He gave an unimpressed frown. "Cheeky, dear girl, very cheeky." He scolded._

_Hermione thanked Merlin that He only scolded her. She looked at the parchment in between them. "What are you working on?"_

"_See for yourself." He scooted over in the alcove. Surely He didn't expect her to sit next to Him? Judging by His face, He clearly did. She pushed down her revulsion and made her way over to Him, sitting down. Nagini immediately slithered over to her, slithering up onto the bench and curling up next to her as she had done with Voldemort, resting her head on a tense Hermione's lap. "Opinions?" He asked of her. She darted her eyes across the work. _

_With a horrified realisation, she voiced her concern. "This is Hogwarts."_

"_Indeed. There'll need to be some changes." He trailed off thoughtfully as He looked over the pages with her._

"_Do you really think that Professor Dumbledore will accept any of your suggestions?" She asked incredulously._

_The smile He gave her twisted her stomach. Her clenched hand on her knee was her only visible outward sign of distress. Hermione squeaked in surprise when Nagini flicked her tongue out and licking across Hermione's knuckles. He laughed when He saw it. "Come now, Hermione, Nagini isn't anything to be afraid of. Not if you don't rile me too much. Besides, the old fool will not last much longer. Surely you know this?"_

"_Do you mean through the upcoming War or through his age?"_

_He just smiled again. "Have you any suggestions for My plans for the curriculum changes?" He waved a waved and a piece of parchment hovered over to her. _

_She reached out and took it. As she read it over, Nagini wiggled her head under Hermione's free hand__.__ "She's worse than a cat." She joked quietly. Voldemort laughed with her. Certain He didn't want criticism on His work and not wanting to be too helpful, she merely said, "This seems very good."_

"_Do you yourself have any complaints about the current curriculum at Hogwarts?"_

"_Well-"_

"_Hermione," He started in a chastising tone, "Remember what I said in one of our first meetings. I like honesty and I despise lies."_

_Feeling like a traitor, she offered, "Well I've never liked that there isn't any advanced courses or classes. Or activities for extra credit."_

"_Yes. Yes, that seems like a good idea. It will separate those who want to succeed and have drive from those who merely wish to scrape by. Anything else?"_

"_Perhaps…" She trailed off quietly._

_He prompted her with a firm, "Hermione."_

"_Perhaps a class on the Old Ways? Traditions, customs, rituals, and the like?"_

_He pondered and then nodded. "A very good idea; keep the Old Ways alive."_

"_I meant it as an aid to muggleborn students, so they can learn more about the Wizarding world."_

_He shook His head. "Soon enough there will not be mudbloods at Hogwarts." _

"_I was a muggleborn." She reminded Him._

_Nagini hissed loudly from her lap, as if Hermione had offended the snake. Voldemort said, "You were never a mudblood, Hermione, you've always been a Pureblood."_

"_Not until last summer. I was as good as a mudblood before then."_

"_Don't be ridiculous, Hermione." He snapped at her._

_She waited a minute before continuing, stroking Nagini's head cautiously__.__ She'd never stroked a snake before. "So there'll be no muggleborns at Hogwarts _at all_?"_

"_No."_

"_Not even gifted ones?"_

_He scoffed. Nagini seemed to laugh. "A gifted muggleborn?"_

"_It does happen."_

_He looked up from the parchment He was reading and smiled at her in a slightly patronising way. "Then, my dear, what would you suggest for these 'gifted' mudbloods?"_

"_That they be allowed to go to Hogwarts too."_

"_How would we determine the gifted from the norm?"_

_She frowned at His obvious mocking. "There are spells to determine a magical being's strength."_

"_They are complicated."_

"_Even for the Dark Lord?" She teased._

_His eyes darkened and for a moment she thought she had gone too far. But then He lifted an eyebrow in amusement. "Touché, my dear. So, we test all mudbloods and those who excel may attend Hogwarts?"_

"_Yes."_

"_And those who do not?"_

"_Why shouldn't they still attend? There are Purebloods who can barely hold their wands, will they be allowed to go to Hogwarts?"_

_He scoffed. "Of course."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because they are Pureblood."_

"_Schools should still be about education and intelligence! If you take that premise and throw it out the window, then why call Hogwarts a school at all? Why even call it Hogwarts? Why not call it 'Voldemort's Institution for the Pureblood and Idiotic?"_

"_Mind your tone, my dear." He snarled as He stood up threateningly. Nagini straightened up, her head level with Hermione's. That was more frightening than Voldemort._

_She ducked her head, knowing she had pushed too far. "Apologies. But my point still stands. Why should the less able – and frankly, stupid – Purebloods continue on into their NEWTs – which they will probably fail – when there are intelligent muggleborns who could excel and succeed in the world? Just because of their blood? And if so, will they have to be completely Pureblooded? What about halfbloods? Three-quarter blood? Every Pureblood family has some muggleborns and halfbloods in it, even the Blacks, Malfoys and Lestranges." She had done her research to confirm that, knowing one day she might need to prove a point._

"_Then why don't you suggest a compromise?" He demanded._

_Hermione's brain whirled into overdrive. Whatever next came out of her mouth may very well be implemented by Voldemort should He ever get control of Hogwarts. She needed something that would give muggleborns a good chance in the Wizarding world, yet still be acceptable to Voldemort and make Him think that the Purebloods would still come out on top. "How about if all Pureblood, halfbloods and muggleborns can all attend Hogwarts up to OWL level, with only the ones with top grades going on to complete their NEWTs?"_

"_Will Purebloods not be allowed to continue on if their grades are not high enough?"_

"_You want me to say that all Purebloods will continue, don't you?" He smirked. "Fine, _most_ Purebloods will complete NEWTs, but those with below average grades cannot, unless they retake the disappointing OWLs."_

"_And mudbloods with below average grades?"_

"_They can either leave or choose to retake too. Purebloods could choose to leave too, if they wanted."_

"_You would give mudbloods a second chance?" He was amused._

"_Of course I would."_

_He chuckled. "Defender of the Downtrodden. Typical Hermione."_

_She nodded her head humbly. "Of course."_

"_Impressive, Hermione, very impressive." He sat down again, hissing in Parseltongue to Nagini__.__ The snake spoke back, in a slightly higher and softer hiss. So there was an audible difference between male and female? The thought intrigued Hermione, but then flew out the window when Nagini didn't immediately put her head back down in Hermione's lap. Instead, she started wrapping herself around Hermione's waist. Was she going to kill Hermione?! Crush her like she knew some snakes did? Voldemort picked up on her panic. "Calm down, my dear. She just wants to surround you." He explained, as if that made Nagini's movements any less frightening. Nagini stopped moving. By the end, she had circled Hermione's lower torso twice – almost acting like a bodice or corset – and was resting her head on the girl's left shoulder. She was thick and heavy, making it slightly uncomfortable, but not impossible, for Hermione to breathe. Voldemort looked at the two of them, giving Hermione a smirk. "You look quite beautiful like that, Hermione. Quite distracting." He pushed Hermione's curls back over her right shoulder, baring her neck. "Now, shall we discuss what kind of extra credit should be available?"_

!"!

Dumbledore listened to Hermione's recounting of the story, including Voldemort's tolerance of her. No-one else would have lived past the 'Voldemort's Institution' comment. Dumbledore of course knew why Voldemort was so unusually tolerant of Hermione. The very thought of the Dark Lord's pursuit of the young girl in front of him made Dumbledore's stomach twist, and even he didn't know how that horrible idea would turn out. He knew Hermione would never willingly submit to Voldemort of her own free will. No. If Voldemort were to ever have Hermione, He would have to exploit one of her weaknesses, use tactic and force if necessary.

"You did very well, Miss Lestrange. I don't think even Ministry negotiators could have managed better than you." She blushed slightly. "So you truly believe that Tom believes Hogwarts will be His?"

"Yes sir. And soon."

Dumbledore twirled the tip of his beard in thought. "Well…We'll just have to make sure that that doesn't happen, won't we?"


	37. Chapter 35

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 35**

_June 1997_

Hermione was lamenting, though the exact reason wasn't that clear to even her. Was it perhaps that her relatives had yet to put the Blaise business behind them? Even though she and Blaise were still carrying on their romance in secret, but no-one needed to know that, not even Harry, Ron or Ginny. Whenever Bellatrix wrote to Hermione – an occurrence which had dwindled noticeably since Christmas – there was always at least one derogatory comment about Blaise, without fail. Rodolphus, Narcissa and Lucius never actually mentioned Blaise by name, but there could sometimes be a thinly veiled insult about her romantic history and how they hoped the future would turn out better, for everyone involved.

Perhaps it was because she had had to endure another session with Voldemort and Nagini when she had gone home for the weekend. Bellatrix had wrote to her explaining – in a tone that told Hermione that she should be proud of such a thing – that Voldemort wanted to see her again, to discuss the future of Hogwarts. Apparently she had had some good ideas. Also, it seemed that Nagini also 'wanted to see Hermione'. As she had read the letter, she had felt more and more nauseated with every word. She would have to spend more time with Voldemort, and His deadly Familiar who appeared to have taken an interest in her, though she had no idea why. Bellatrix didn't either, stating that the large snake had never liked anyone other than her Master. The meeting would also involve discussing a future she hoped never came into play. For Voldemort to gain control of Hogwarts, a certain kindly Headmaster would have to be gotten rid of. The thought filled Hermione's heart with worry for her professor.

So, as bid by her fanatical mother, Hermione had returned home for the dreaded meeting – but not before she told Dumbledore. The growing concern on the old man's face was visible to anyone. Voldemort's increasing interest in Hermione could very quickly pose a huge problem, and threat. She had Flooed to Lestrange manor, her mother greeting her on the other side of the grate. She carefully examined her daughter's appearance – immaculate hair and make-up thanks to Tippy and dressed in far too expensive dress, robes and shoes – and then walked with her to the library, visibly happy that Hermione was spending time with Voldemort. The meeting had been a review of Voldemort's plans for the school, even new uniform ideas. Nagini had been present, sitting next to Voldemort in the alcove that Hermione had once thought of as hers. But as she had sat down next to Voldemort – He changed into the younger face that Hermione had come to expect – Nagini had wrapped herself around the student the same way she had during the first meeting.

Voldemort had smirked again as He saw it. "It gladdens me to see you two getting on." He smiled, stroking Nagini's head as it rested on Hermione's shoulder and then smoothly gliding His hand down Hermione's arm. She fought to repress the shudder that nearly racked her body. He seriously thought that she 'got on' with the snake?

"Can I ask why Nagini likes me? Bellatrix told me that this," She gestured to the content Nagini wrapped around her, "Has never happened before, with anyone."

"By now you must know that Familiars are quite attuned to magical essences. The same can be said for Nagini. Most people's magical essence annoys her – to her, a Wizard's magical essence is like a scent; not everyone 'smells' pleasant. But your magic…" He trailed off with a leer.

"So I 'smell'…Nice to her?" She asked uncertainly, eyeing the snake that was now slithering down her torso, hissing as she went.

Voldemort smirked, taking a lock of Hermione's hair and rubbing it between His fingertips. "There isn't an exact translation for how she says you smell. The closest would be 'pure'."

"Well we both know she doesn't mean physically." She mumbled nervously. She winced as Nagini gave her a bit of a squeeze and a disapproving hiss; a warning?

Voldemort Himself seemed displeased too. "I suppose not." He dropped the lock of her hair. "Shall we begin with the teaching hours? I think lessons should go until six in the evening."

She was brought out of her thoughts by a voice behind her. "Miss Lestrange?"

Hermione spun around in alarm, her wand already out and aimed. She lowered it immediately. "Sorry, Headmaster."

"Not a problem, my dear." He smiled, the usual twinkle in his eye wasn't as bright as it usually was. "What brings you to the Astronomy tower?"

She shrugged. "It's a quiet place to think."

He hummed. "Anything I could help you think through?"

She smiled sadly. "There's too much, even for the both of us." His raised eyebrow was an invitation for her to continue. She sighed and sat down on a step. "My parents and everything that they come with; the upcoming war that I feel totally unprepared for; the Dark Lord and His twisted obsession with me; His deadly Familiar and why she likes me when she's never liked anyone else but Him; my relationship with Blaise that has to stay secret for fear of his life…Then there's Draco…"

Dumbledore sat down next to her. He looked quite novel, her elderly Headmaster sitting on a stone step with one of his students. "Yes…How is young master Malfoy? Is he recovering?"

"Madame Pomfrey thinks he should be okay. She says the spell that Professor Snape used definitely saved his life, otherwise he would have bled to death in a matter of minutes." She shuddered at the thought. As annoying as he was, she was warming up to Cousin Draco, even if Slytherin Draco was still a twat.

"The Dark Lord and His obsession…" Dumbledore paused in thought.

"Bellatrix is ecstatic over it. Couldn't stop smiling when I Flooed over there last weekend. It's what she wants, though I don't know why."

"Really, Miss Lestrange?" He sounded surprised and sceptical.

Hermione sighed. "Well I can guess why. But I don't like the conclusion I always reach."

"Which is?"

"She wants me to be close to Him, that much is certain. She probably thinks our family will get some sort of reputation or favouritism. She might even hope that one day I'll have some influence over Him, which just sounds ridiculous. I doubt anyone or anything could influence Him." Dumbledore said nothing, but nodded in agreement. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. "What are _you_ doing up here, Professor?"

"Oh me? This is one of my favourite places to think, too." Hermione frowned at his tone and scrutinised him. He was hiding something… "Yes, Miss Lestrange, I am." He smiled. "But only because I have to." He winked.

Footsteps coming up the stairs stopped their conversation. Snape arrived at the top of the staircase, pausing when he saw them. "Headmaster. Miss Lestrange." He nodded sullenly to both of them.

She nodded back respectfully to her Head of House. "Professor." She stood up. "I'll leave you two alone." She got a few steps away before Dumbledore called after her.

"Miss Lestrange." She turned. "What you said about being unprepared. You're more prepared than you know." His eyes twinkled and shone with a meaning that Hermione would need to mull over. How was she more prepared than she thought?

She nodded distractedly, then left. Glancing at her wristwatch, she saw that she still had an hour or so before curfew, but didn't have to be anywhere until then. The walk back to the Slytherin common-room from the Astronomy Tower would probably take her about thirty minutes at her usual brisk pace. With the clear sky and pleasant temperature, Hermione fancied turning the march into a leisurely stroll. She'd still get back in time. With a carefree pace and relaxed body, Hermione started her amble back to the dungeons of Hogwarts, looking out any windows she passed on her way. As it was a Saturday, there were plenty of students milling around the corridors, laughing and talking in their social groups. Whenever she passed by some Slytherin students who were younger than her, they always looked up at her with fear and respect, even when she tried to offset that by giving them a friendly smile. She passed the fourth cluster of First years who had darted to the side of the corridor as not to step in her way, she sighed to herself. Would things ever change?

She came across Pansy, Millicent Bulstrode and the Greengrass sisters in one of the more spacious and open corridors on the sixth floor. Sitting with them, they all chatted for a little while, mainly about their upcoming exams, or the class tests that they had already done. When the curfew drew nearer, they all stood up and started heading back to their common-room. They crossed the Grand Staircase on the fifth floor, and Hermione paused.

"Draco?" The blonde jumped when she called his name, looking very much like a rabbit in headlights as she approached him with a smile. The other Slytherin girls commented on how well he looked, then carried on towards the common-room when Hermione said she wanted to talk to her cousin. "How are you feeling?" She hugged him gently, knowing his chest must still be sore.

He patted her back in a cack-handed and clumsy way. "Uh, good…Thanks."

"Has Madame Pomfrey released you already? She said yesterday you'd need another week's rest."

"No, I'm fine now. I'm…" He looked around nervously, then cleared his throat loudly. "I'm just taking a walk around, stretch my legs."

Hermione eyed him closely. He was pale, clammy and was clenching his fists in a way that she knew was a nervous habit of his. "Draco, are you alright?" She asked seriously.

"I'm fine, just leave me alone!" He barked. "Just get back to the common-room, it's nearly curfew!"

"Yes it is…Are you sure you have time for a walk? I could come with you." She offered with a placating smile.

"Just leave me be!" He gave her a shove towards the dungeons, and then stalked off down a corridor.

Hermione had a bad feeling about this…Heading up the staircase, she ran as fast as she could back to the Astronomy Tower. With a bit of luck, Dumbledore and Snape might still be there. Ripping open the door at the bottom of the long and winding tower, she climbed the stairs hastily, stumbling over the hem of her robes a few times. When she reached the top, she nearly screamed in frustration. The room was totally empty. No Dumbledore, no Snape. Bending over double and trying to catch her breath, Hermione wobbled into the storage room directly below, hoping that there'd be something she could sit on while she recovered from her workout. Sitting down for about ten minutes helped her get her breath back. As she stood to head back down, a loud crack of Apparation in the room above startled her. Looking through the hole in the floor where there was an iron representation of the solar system, Hermione saw Dumbledore and Harry stumble as they righted themselves. When Hermione looked closer, she saw that Dumbledore looked ill and faint, and Harry was supporting most of his weight.

"We need to get you to the Hospital Wing, sir!" Harry urged, trying to carry the old man towards the door.

Dumbledore resisted. "No, Harry. Severus. It's Severus I need now." He slumped onto the same step on which he had sat with Hermione earlier. "Get him." He commanded gently. Harry nodded frantically and ran towards the door, but the sound of the door right at the bottom of the tower rang up to them. Harry paused, looking to his teacher nervously. Dumbledore staggered to his feet. "Below, Harry. Hide yourself!"

Hermione jumped up from the chair she'd been resting in, standing to the side of the archway. Harry ran through it, jumping when he saw Hermione. "What are you doing here?" He hissed in a whisper, clutching his heart in surprise.

"I came looking for Dumbledore." She whispered back, pressing herself against the wall as the footsteps heading up the tower got closer. Harry copied her, taking hold of her hand. Whoever it was ran past the room, up into the open area above them. What Dumbledore said next froze both of them.

"Good evening Draco."


	38. Chapter 36

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 36**

_June 1997_

"_Below, Harry. Hide yourself!"_

_Hermione jumped up from the chair she'd been resting in, standing to the side of the archway. Harry ran through it, jumping when he saw Hermione. "What are you doing here?" He hissed in a whisper, clutching his heart in surprise._

"_I came looking for Dumbledore." She whispered back, pressing herself against the wall as the footsteps heading up the tower got closer. Harry copied her, taking hold of her hand. Whoever it was ran past the room, up into the open area above them. What Dumbledore said next froze both of them._

"Good evening Draco." Hermione felt like someone had punched her in the throat, her breath being snatched from her body as she looked through the gaps in the floorboards over her head and saw her cousin aiming his wand at Dumbledore. "What brings you here on this fine summer evening?"

"Who else is here?" He demanded. "I heard you talking!"

"No, I often talk aloud to myself. I find it extremely useful at helping one clear one's mind." Through the floor, Hermione could see Draco's scared and tormented face. He didn't want to do this. That gave her some comfort. "Draco," Dumbledore said kindly and gently, "You are no assassin."

"I've done things that would shock you!" He argued.

"Like giving Katie Bell a cursed necklace in the hope she'd give it to me? Like swapping a bottle of wine with one laced with poison?"

"_**I told you!"**_ Harry hissed to Hermione through the mental link. She scowled at him, then turned back to listen again.

"Forgive me, Draco, but those efforts seem so weak that I don't believe your heart was truly in them." Dumbledore tested.

Draco glared. "He trusts me! I was chosen!" He pulled back the sleeve of his left forearm. Harry and Hermione couldn't see, but by Dumbledore's face, they could tell that the Dark Mark had been burned into Draco's skin. He _was_ a Death Eater after all.

"Then I'll make it easy for you."

Dumbledore pulled out his wand, but Draco was too quick. "_Expelliarmus!_" Dumbledore's wand flew from his hand, landing in a corner across the room. Harry pulled his own wand out. Hermione kept hers sheathed.

"Very good, Draco." Dumbledore sounded impressed. The door at the bottom of the tower opened again. "You're not alone. There are others? How?"

Draco seemed to wrestle with himself for a second before answering. "The Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. I've been mending it. It has a twin, in _Borgin and Bourkes_. They form a passage."

"_**Your precious cousin's let Death Eaters into Hogwarts!" **_Harry shouted through the link, giving Hermione a headache. Separating their hands, Hermione took out her wand, standing next to Harry as he pressed himself against the wall of the room.

"Ingenious!" Dumbledore praised. "Draco, a long time ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices. Please let me help you."

"I don't want your help! Don't you see? I have to do this. I have to kill you." Hermione didn't need to see her cousin's face to tell that he was crying, the pain was evident in his voice. "Or He said He'd kill me." Her heart broke for Draco. He didn't want to do this, but had to under pain of death. That was why he'd been so distracted and angry this year – he'd been trying to stay alive.

Footsteps – at least four pairs – ran past the archway to the storage room, and up the short staircase into the main room. As they ran past, Hermione tried to get a good look at them. She couldn't see them clearly enough. She looked to Dumbledore's face through the boards. He looked…Scared. She had never seen Dumbledore scared before. That alone struck terror into her own heart. His eyes flicked downwards, meetings hers. His fear grew. He obviously hadn't known she'd been there. What was about to happen? Did Dumbledore know already?

"Well well." Cackled a voice.

"_**No."**_

"Look at what we have here."

"_**Please no."**_

"Hermione?" Harry whispered as Hermione rested her head against his shoulder, tears leaking from her eyes.

"Good evening Bellatrix." Dumbledore greeted. There was a tremor in his voice. This was not going to end well. He looked to the other people in the room. "I believe introductions are in order."

"I'd love to, Albus, but we're on a bit of tight schedule." She laughed. She walked over to Draco, kissing his cheek. "Well done Draco." She praised in a delighted whisper.

Hermione stepped forward again, looking through the boards at the other Death Eaters' faces. Her heart sunk again. _**"Greyback. The Carrow twins. Dolohov."**_

"Do it!" Bellatrix urged Draco, who hesitated.

"He doesn't have the stomach. Just like his father." Greyback insulted, taking a step towards Dumbledore. "Let me finish him off!"

"No! The Dark Lord has given orders! Draco is to do it!"

A floorboard creaked behind Harry and Hermione. They shot around. Snape was standing in the archway of the room, his wand raised. The two teens raised their own, but Snape lowered his. He raised a finger to his lips, then motioned for them to stay put, backing out of the room.

"Come on, Draco! Now!" Bellatrix screamed.

"No."

Everyone in the room above turned. Snape had stepped forward. No-one moved. Draco cowered. Bellatrix glared. Hermione held her breath, taking hold of Harry's free hand, squeezing it in fear. He squeezed back. Snape and Dumbledore looked at each other.

"Severus. Please." Dumbledore pleaded.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_ Green light shot from Snape's wand, flying towards the Headmaster and hitting him in the chest. The force of the spell sent his body over the railing behind him, sending him tumbling towards the ground two-hundred feet below.

The Death Eaters above rushed to the balcony, looking over the side. Hermione curled up in Harry's arms, who held her as he went numb, both of them trembling. Bellatrix cackled with glee, shooting a _Morsmordre_ into the sky. The Death Eaters ran back down the stairs of the tower, the sounds of their movements becoming quieter the further they got away. Harry pulled away from Hermione shakily, stumbling back into an iron globe. He turned and ran out the room and down the stairs.

"Harry. Harry!" She cried after him as she wept, getting no response.

Heading down the stairs, she knew she wouldn't have a chance to catch up – Harry was faster than her, and was being fuelled by rage. When she got to the bottom of the tower, she looked out the window. There, on the grass below, lay Albus Dumbledore. She knew what she had to do. Running through the castle, jumping down steps whenever she could, skidding around corners, Hermione emerged from the castle. She could see him. She didn't breathe as she got closer. There he was. She collapsed next to him, feeling his neck for a pulse, but knowing she wouldn't find one. His eyes were still open. Reaching over with a trembling hand, she gently closed his eyes, unable to contain her grief as she picked up one of his hands and stroked it gently, whispering to him softly as she brushed his hair away from his face, smoothing down his robes.

And that was how the school found them. Hermione didn't look up, but she knew everyone was there. She could feel them, feel their grief, their heartbreak. No-one approached. No-one spoke. Someone came closer. She looked up. It was Harry. Crouching down beside Dumbledore, he held his other hand. They sat there for what felt like an eternity, looking into the now peaceful face of their Headmaster, Hermione stroking his head soothingly. The area around them grew lighter. Was it dawn? She looked up and saw everyone with their wand in the air, shining light up at the sky, destroying the _Morsmordre_ above their heads. Hermione smiled at the sight. The Dark was defeated by the Light.

With a silent prayer, she hoped that was a sign of things to come.

!"!

Dumbledore's funeral was the next day. It had to be; all the students were being sent home the day after. Home, Hermione mused. That was going to be a cheerful place. The worst part for Hermione was that it probably would be – Dumbledore's death was a victory for the Dark, and thus would be celebrated. For the first time ever, Hermione wanted to run away. She wanted to be taken away from this place. Away from a world with Light and Dark. Maybe take Blaise with her.

The funeral had been done well. Respectful and dignified, yet still with life and hope. It was a wonderful homage to Dumbledore's memory. Dusk approached. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were in the Astronomy Tower, standing exactly where Dumbledore had stood when he had died, looking out over the lake and forest behind the school. With the sun starting to set, it was a beautiful and peaceful sight. Hermione could see why Dumbledore had liked to come up here.

"Do you think he would have done it?" Ginny asked. Everyone looked to her. "Draco. Do you think he would have killed him?"

"No." Harry answered first. "He was lowering his wand."

"He was scared." Hermione said, quietly. She'd been using that as a small comfort to herself. "In the end it was Snape."

"It was always Snape." Ron grumbled.

Harry held out a golden locket on a chain. Hermione looked at him questioningly. "It's fake. Go on."

She opened it. Inside was a tiny folded up piece of parchment. She opened it, handing the locket to Ginny, who turned it this way and that. _"To the Dark Lord. I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death with the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more. R.A.B." _She looked to Harry. "R.A.B?"

He shrugged. "No idea. But whoever they are, they have the real Horcrux. It means it was all a waste." He meant Dumbledore's death. The four of them looked at each other. "I'm not coming back." Harry announced. "I've got to finish whatever Dumbledore started. I don't know where that'll lead me, but I'll try to keep you informed as best I can." He said with a brave nod.

Hermione smiled at her friend. "I've always admired your courage, Harry. But sometimes you are so thick. You don't think you can find all those Horcruxes by yourself, do you?" Anyone listening in would have thought that she was being insulting, but the four of them didn't take it that way. "We're in this together, Harry."

"But your family-"

"I don't give a shit about them anymore." She answered honestly. They looked shocked at her language.

Ron cleared his throat. "But if the Light win the war-"

"I know. But what if _they_ win? Like I said, we're in this together. All of us." They stood in silence for a while, pondering the future and what was to come.

Ginny was the first to speak up. "So what's the plan?"


	39. Chapter 37

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 37**

_June 1997_

The train ride back to Kings Cross was usually so full of cheer and life. Instead, this journey was mournful, sorrowful and quiet. Hardly anyone spoke. No-one knew what to say, or whether to say anything at all. Hermione sat with the Slytherins, sitting next to Blaise with no fear of consequences. Pansy was opposite them. She didn't comment on their closeness. Blaise had his arm across the back of seat, Hermione pressed against his side. Neither Hermione nor Blaise read. Pansy didn't gossip or natter incessantly. No-one said a word.

Narcissa collected Hermione from Kings Cross. She looked tired and worried. When Hermione asked why, her aunt snapped that she couldn't tell her in public. She held of her niece's arm and Apparated them straight into the grand foyer at Malfoy Manor. There she confessed that Draco was being punished for failing to be the one to kill Dumbledore. Hermione asked about his punishment. Narcissa paled and started weeping. Hermione's stomach clenched, even though she actually felt that Draco deserved some of his punishment. He'd tried several times throughout the year to kill Dumbledore, and had failed each time. The only part of his job he had succeeded in was sneaking the Death Eaters in to the school. Did Hermione believe in torture? No. Did she believe that people should take responsibility for their crimes? Yes. And that was all this was. Despite the fact that Snape had been the one to kill Dumbledore, Draco had still attempted the murder. If he were on trial before the Wizengamot – if the members of the court weren't in Voldemort's pocket – he'd face at least twenty years in Azkaban. A few hours of the Cruciatus curse was actually getting off easy.

She gently touched Narcissa's arm in an attempt to show sympathy. Her aunt quickly pulled her into a tight hug, sobbing into her neck as she wept for her son. Hermione didn't say anything. She didn't know what she could say, or should say. She just held Narcissa, until a door in the side of the hall opened. Bellatrix ran into the room.

"Hermione!" She gushed. The teen broke away from her aunt, accepting her mother's hug, but remained stiff in her arms. Bellatrix frowned as she pulled away, she'd obviously noticed. "How are you, sweetie?"

"Fine, thank you."

"I knew it was you when I heard the Apparation. Everyone else is already here." Bellatrix commented as she wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders, leading her down a corridor. Narcissa had dried her eyes and was following them.

"Everyone else?" Hermione asked.

They came to a door at the end of the long corridor, and entered the room behind it. It was a huge room, decorated in an 'old English manor' style with portraits and antlers on the walls. The table in the room was enormous. Dark polished wood, about six foot wide, and stretching almost the whole length of the room. Around the edges of the room, there was dozens of Death Eaters, all in their black robes, but without their masks. Looking around the room, Hermione saw people she recognised. Many other faces were familiar, but Hermione didn't know their names. Yaxley. Crabbe Snr. Goyle Snr. Macnair. And, of course, Dolohov. Why was he everywhere, Hermione thought to herself in misery. He winked at her, licking his lips obscenely. Hermione ducked her head and walked with her mother and aunt over to Rodolphus and Lucius. Lucius looked a little worse for wear, too. Rodolphus looked fine. He smiled at Hermione, put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She didn't stiffen as she had done with Bellatrix, who noticed that too.

The door to the room burst open, surprising everyone, though Hermione was the only one who jumped. What happened next made her nauseated with fear. Draco was thrown into the room, landing with a horrible thud on the floor. He was whimpering, sobbing quietly through the pain he was obviously in. His clothes were torn and dirty, some bloodstains marring the whiteness of his expensive shirt. As he curled into a ball, the whole room darkened and became colder as Voldemort entered, His wand aimed at Draco. He cast a Cruciatus. Draco screamed in agony, his body convulsing as the pain wracked his body. Narcissa buried herself in Lucius' arms, sobbing again, her husband closed his eyes and his face scrunched up in pain as he listened to his only child being viciously tortured right in front of him. The spell was eventually released.

"Get up, you stupid boy!" He ordered Draco, who struggled to his feet. "Now that this incompetent fool has been taught to never fail Me again, we can begin." Everyone took their seemingly prearranged seats. Hermione held back a little, waiting for her parents to sit down, then sitting between them when Rodolphus held a chair out for her. Unfortunately the seat he held out was directly opposite Dolohov, who looked like all his Christmases had come at once. "Ahh, Hermione." Could she not just sit down and be ignored? She looked up and gave Voldemort a tense and nervous smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I hope that little display has not upset you." Some Death Eaters chuckled lowly. Hermione didn't answer; what would she say? "We have already seen the _'capabilities'_," He sneered, "Of one child borne from a daughter of the House of Black – let us hope the same is not proved in you." She brushed off the insult and threat. He was obviously in a bad mood. She inclined her head, but stayed silent.

The atmosphere became serious. "Albus Dumbledore's death could not have come at a better time, My friends." Voldemort hissed. "Our friends in the Ministry have already started their work, and will now move on to the next step. The Daily Prophet will begin their work also. Meanwhile, the Department for the Education of the Wizarding Youth will begin to implement the desired changes in Hogwarts." He glanced at Hermione. Her stomach twisted. Those changes that she had helped Voldemort finalise…They were going to be put into effect. Official prejudice against muggleborns, fewer opportunities for them, while favouring and enabling Pureblood 'rights'…What had Hermione done?

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur for Hermione. She tried to listen, but her guilt kept weighing her down. One thing that did bring her back into the room was the feeling of a hand squeezing her knee. She jumped a little in her chair, discreetly looking under the table. There was nothing and nobody there. On her right side, Rodolphus looked down at her questioningly. She shook her head minutely. The hand squeezed again. She slid her hand under the table and felt around her leg. Nothing again. Putting on a calm front, she slowly raked her eyes over everyone in the room. Everyone was watching Voldemort as He continued talking. As she reached the middle of the table, her stomach clenched when she saw Dolohov was hiding a smirk beneath his hand. Everyone else in the room was solemn and focused, so he wasn't laughing at a joke. And then he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. His smirk widened. He placed his other hand on top of the table, and the feeling at her knee squeezed again. He was doing that to her. But how – both his hands were above the table.

The hand moved up her leg a little, to the middle of her thigh, running around it slowly, teasingly. He was taunting her. Further up her thigh the hand and fingers went, grazing the side of her hip. She twitched and her breath hitched. Bellatrix glanced at her, a slight frown on her face. Should she tell her what was happening? That thought was pushed from her mind when the fingers slipped under her panties, grazing her lower lips. Hermione hid her mouth behind her hand, trying to make the movement look casual. Dolohov was practically grinning behind his own fist. How was he doing this?! Why?

A finger pushed into her. Hermione bit her lip to stop herself crying out. She looked at the table, sliding her hand over her robes. There was nothing there. But she could still feel the finger inside her. It felt so real. A second finger joined the first, starting to stretch her. She gasped lowly. She covered it with a small cough. Dolohov's eyes met hers. He was loving this. The fingers started to slide in and out of her, making her tummy clench. She looked at his hand on top of the table. His fingers were thick and long, just like the ones now tormenting her under the table. She bounced her leg nervously. Rodolphus tapped her hip lightly, giving her a scolding glare. She tried to catch his eye, but he merely looked back to Voldemort.

The fingers sped up, and a thumb rubbed her clit. She bit her tongue and closed her eyes. She could feel it building up inside her. Not here. Not now. The fingers started bending inside her, rubbing the sweet spot. Her breath was coming in gasps under her hand. She couldn't stop it. The fingers sped up again as they changed position. She could feel the heel of a palm hitting her clit with every thrust. It became too much for her. Her pussy clamped down, her hips bucked and she grunted her breath as a hard orgasm rocked her body.

"Hermione, be quiet." Rodolphus scolded in her ear.

She nodded faintly, trying to catch her breath surreptitiously as she bit on one of her fingers to keep herself quiet. She looked to Dolohov. He looked like the cat who got the cream. More to her horror, he lifted his right hand to his nose and sniffed deeply, then smirked. He couldn't…No, surely not…

The fingers stayed inside her throughout the meeting, forcing her to stay in the exact position she was in. Whenever she moved, she felt them inside her. Occasionally they would move and twist inside her, threatening to start again. Thankfully they didn't.

Voldemort got up and left, ending the meeting. Hermione sighed with relief as the fingers left her body. Taking her wand from her sleeve, she cast a discrete _Scourgify _on herself, removing all traces of her orgasm. Rodolphus pulled her chair out for her.

"What was that during the meeting? Why were you so fidgety?" He snapped.

"Stomach ache." She mumbled, keeping her head down.

"Go and lie down. We'll wake you for dinner."

!"!

It was four in the morning when Hermione decided to give up on sleep. She had chosen to have an early night and had retired to bed before ten; the tense train ride from Hogwarts, the meeting and Dolohov's actions had worn her down. But sleep was denied her; she had lain awake since turning her light off, tossing and turning as she fought for even a few hours of rest. Eventually she sat up in bed, rubbing her face tiredly. Climbing out of bed, she pulled on a dressing gown over her sleep shorts and tank top and slipped out of her room.

The manor was busier than usual. Hermione's parents had warned her that there was a party going on in the dungeons, but that the House Elves were going to make sure that the Death Eaters wouldn't get any higher than the ground floor. As Hermione descended the main staircase to the foyer, she heard distant voices coming from down the corridor that led to the dungeons. She headed towards the East drinking room, her bare feet padding softly on the marble floor. As she drew nearer, she saw that the room was lit, and there was an occasional clink of glass. Heading forward cautiously, she peeked around the large wooden panelled door.

"Well, well, who do we have here?"

Dolohov was alone in the room. He was sat at the bar on a wooden and leather stool, his Death Eater robe discarded on an armchair nearby, leaving him in only leather trousers with a bare torso. His muscular back was to the door – giving Hermione a chance to observe the multitude of scars criss-crossing the skin – but the mirrored wall in front of him lined with glass shelves and bottles of alcohol had given her away. In the mirror, she could see that he was drinking from a bottle of something, though she couldn't tell exactly what.

Between leaving and staying, Hermione knew her choice almost immediately. She straightened up, entered the room and closed the door behind her.


	40. Chapter 38

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 38**

_**A/n: A lot of creepiness in this chapter! ;)**_

_June 1997_

"Well, well, who do we have here?"

Dolohov was alone in the room. He was sat at the bar on a wooden and leather stool, his Death Eater robe discarded on an armchair nearby, leaving him in only leather trousers with a bare torso. His muscular back was to the door – giving Hermione a chance to observe the multitude of scars criss-crossing the skin – but the mirrored wall in front of him lined with glass shelves and bottles of alcohol had given her away. In the mirror, she could see that he was drinking from a bottle of something, though she couldn't tell exactly what.

Between leaving and staying, Hermione knew her choice almost immediately. She straightened up, entered the room and closed the door behind her. "I thought everyone would be in the dungeons." She commented as she walked over to the bar, standing a few feet away from him as she leant against the dark polished wood.

"Indeed they are." He poured himself a shot from the bottle – she saw that it was high quality dark rum – and drank it in one swallow.

"Are you not joining the celebrations?" She asked, unable to believe that he would turn down an opportunity to get drunk, be raucous, and probably get into a fight with someone.

He chuckled. "I have been. But most of my comrades are now passed out in the dungeons. I guess some people just have more stamina than others." He smirked at her. "What are you doing down here at this time?"

"Couldn't sleep."

He did another shot. "I suppose not. Not with all the bad men that are lingering in the dungeons, just dreaming of a chance to get you alone."

"Surely my family's name is mud right now, after Draco's failure?" She referred back to Voldemort's taunting of her at the meeting earlier.

"A hot perky seventeen year old is still a hot perky seventeen year old." He gave her a wink. She gave him a grimace.

Hermione waited a minute before asking, "You want to explain why you did what you did in the meeting?"

Dolohov actually gave her an innocent look. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." She hissed.

"No, I'm afraid I don't." He was openly smirking.

"You fingered me under the table!"

He looked innocent again. "No, my hands were on the table."

"Then you used magic to do it."

"_That_ does sound like something I would do." He laughed.

She snapped, "Why did you do it?"

He shrugged. "Why not?"

"Oh, let me guess – it's part of the game that we're playing? The one where you're waiting for me to beg you to fuck me?"

"That's the one." He smirked.

She groaned, eyeing the bottle in front of him. "Pour me one."

He looked at her in disbelieving amusement. "Seriously? The Golden Girl wants to get drunk?"

"If we're actually having this conversation, then yes." He laughed, Accio'ing a second shot glass from a shelf. He poured them both a shot of the rum. "How do I drink it?"

"Down in one." She went to do so when he stopped her. "Where are your manners?" He asked, holding up his glass to hers in a toast. She looked at him in exasperation with an_ 'are you serious?' _look, but clinked her glass together with his. "Good girl." She raised an eyebrow but did the shot quickly. After she swallowed came the burn. She coughed and cleared her throat a few times, wiping a tear out of her eye. He just laughed at her. "I've got to teach you how to drink. One of the many things I'll show you." He promised as he poured them both another shot.

She scoffed. "Oh really? And what are these many things you're going to teach me?" She did the second shot, coughing as she had done with the first drink.

He waited until she recovered from the shot before speaking lowly. "How to drink. How to fuck. How to take my cock down your throat, in your cunt, up your arse..." She resisted rolling her eyes at his comments. She had expected him to say something like that. She also resisted telling him that she knew how to fuck, but knew that she didn't want a man like Dolohov to know about her and Blaise. That could cause all kinds of trouble.

"Yeah, I did guess that those would be things that you'd like to teach me. You're not exactly unpredictable, _Antonin_." She sneered his name, the rum making her careless.

He did another shot for himself, then stood up, towering over her. She turned her head to look at him as she braced herself against the bar with her hands. His hands shot out and spun her around, pinning her between the wood of the bar and himself, standing chest-to-chest. She reached out with her hands to push him away, but he grabbed her wrists, slowly stretching out her arms and laying her hands on the bar, palms down. He leant his head in to her neck, breathing in her smell. "I'll teach you how pain works. How pleasurable it can be. How to accept it and turn it into ecstasy." He ran his nose up her throat, down her jaw and over her mouth. She gasped as she felt a throb in her pelvis. She knew what that throb meant. Why was she not repulsed? Why was she not pushing him away? He chuckled as he breathed over her lips, sliding his hands up her arms to her shoulders. "I can practically hear you thinking. And no, I didn't dose you." She was about to answer back when he grabbed her jaw with both hands and planted a firm kiss on her open lips.

She gasped at the ferocity of it, thus letting him slide his tongue into her mouth, running it over hers. Why didn't this feel wrong? His hands slid to her throat, pressing slightly as he continued to ravage her mouth. He rested his thumbs on top of her windpipe. He pressed ever so slightly. She panicked. He kept his mouth to hers. When she started to get dizzy from the kiss and from lack of oxygen, she bucked against him in an attempt to free her mouth. He laughed and pulled away, still with his hands on her throat, squeezing gently. "No fear, Hermione. No fear." He hushed softly, releasing her throat. She gasped and choked for air. He lowered his head to her neck, planting kisses down the ivory column. One hand took hold of her hair, gripping tightly, almost painfully. The other pulled the top of her t-shirt down, baring her left breast to him. He hummed. "Beautiful." He pulled her nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping, even biting. She writhed against the bar, her fingers struggling for purchase. When he bit her again, she cried out at the pain that shot through her breast. He released her breast, gripped her throat with one hand and slapped her breast with the other. "Silence!" He snarled when she cried out at his slaps. He pinched her nipple. She whimpered as he hissed, "I told you to be quiet!"

The door to the bar opened, Voldemort standing in the doorway. He looked furious but His voice was deadly calm. "I thought I heard shouts."

"Yes milord. I was just teaching little Hermione about the virtues of silence." He answered smoothly, his hands still on her throat and breast.

"Then by all means, carry on." He settled Himself into an armchair, watching them, His face still a mask of cold fury.

Hermione pushed Dolohov away, righting her top and hurrying to the door. "Goodnight." She mumbled as she ran from the room.

!"!

Hermione had ran up to her room, locked the door, crawled into bed and put her head on her pillow, somehow knowing that she would still be unsuccessful in catching even an hour of sleep that night. And she was right. After lying down, before she could whisper the command which would turn off the lamp on her bedside table, it extinguished itself, and the temperature in the room plummeted. She knew what that meant. He was there. After Dolohov's actions all day, Hermione didn't feel strong enough to deal with Voldemort then, but she knew that was probably why He chose to go to her then; she was tired, weak and drained.

Sitting up in bed nervously, she tried looking around the room, but couldn't see an inch in front of her face. She let out a shaky breath, the air turning into mist as she shivered at the cold. Clutching the summer duvet on her bed, she almost screamed when it was ripped from her grasp, exposing her to the chill. She shivered harder. She looked to her left, knowing where the nearest window was. Should she risk it? On one hand, what if she walked straight into Voldemort? On the other, He was clearly angry with her and she couldn't see a thing, and thus couldn't defend herself if necessary.

Standing up shakily and edging her way forward, Hermione made it to the window. Drawing back a curtain, she let some of the night light into the room. As she turned around, the back of her neck was grabbed. She squealed in surprise and fear, knowing her wand was on the other side of the room.

"I think, Hermione," Voldemort hissed in her ear, "It's time for you to tell me the truth about your little friend." He shook her with a harsh jolt.

She whimpered. "What do you mean?" She tried, and failed, to keep the tremor out of her voice.

There was a loud and angry hiss from across the room. Nagini was there too. "Dolohov. Tell me _exactly_ what is transpiring between you, and perhaps I'll be lenient."

"There's nothing transpiring-"

He pushed her head forward until her forehead rested against the cold pane of the window. "Do not lie to me!"

"I swear! There's nothing going on between us! I hate him!"

He spun her around. This time, His face was not the younger version of Himself, but the white and snakelike face with glowing red eyes. "Do you let everyone you hate have your body?"

"I didn't _let_ him have anything! He pinned my wrists, he grabbed my throat!"

Voldemort pulled her head back, staring into her eyes as He used painful Legilimency on her. The conversation flashed before her eyes, and she could feel Voldemort's fury at Dolohov. And her, too. "You still enjoyed it."

"No I-"

He slapped her cheek. Not too hard, but hard enough to stop her words. "Yes you did, I saw your bodily reactions _and _your mental one. You don't know why, but you were aroused by his display." He chuckled coldly. "It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?" He snarled. "Now, about this 'game' you two are playing…"

"We're not playing a-"

He slapped her again. "I saw you say it, my dear. You said that he is waiting for you to beg him to fuck you. Will that be a possibility in the future?"

She gasped, "What?!"

"Will you beg him to fuck you, in the future?"

"I-"

"Oh it's all so complicated isn't it? You have your little toy boy Zabini, you love him, you want to be with him forever," He gushed in a soppy romantic way, obviously mocking her, "But deep down, you're curious. Don't try and deny it, Hermione. If anything, it's an academic curiosity. You've no doubt heard stories and tales of the Dark Revels that took place during the First War, of the women who were brought in kicking and screaming but by the time My Death Eaters had finished with them, they were begging for more. You're only young; you may not have those desires or fantasies…_Yet_," He leered at her, "But you _are_ curious about how pain can be pleasurable, about why people seek out those who will hurt them." He cupped her jaw, turning her head this way and that, considering.

He chuckled lowly. "Well, that will have to suffice for now. It's already five o'clock. You should get some rest." He pulled away from her, talking towards the door to her room. With a lazy wave of His hand, the duvet to her bed flew back to where it belonged, one corner folded back invitingly. "Good morning, Hermione. Oh. And just to make sure you're not disturbed by any pesky Death Eaters, Nagini will keep you company."

"For this morning, you mean?"

He chuckled again. "Sleep _tight_." He stepped out of her room, closing the door behind him.

Hermione hadn't noticed Nagini slithering up next to her, until she nudged Hermione's hip with her head. The witch jumped a little, looking down nervously at the snake. Never knowing what to say to the animal, Hermione merely shut the curtain again and hurried over to the bed. Lying back with her head on the pillow, she forced herself to take several deep breaths before closing the eyes. The bed dipped. Something brushed her leg under the covers. Hermione whipped back the covers. It was Nagini, slithering next to her.

"Nagini, what are you doing?" She asked anxiously. The snake hissed back at her in an almost soothing way, before nudging Hermione's hip. "What? What do you want?" She could have sworn that the reptile rolled her eyes at her, sliding her head in between the mattress and the curve of the small of Hermione's back, sliding her body under Hermione's. Hermione sat up a little, not knowing that was exactly what Nagini wanted. Quicker than Hermione thought possible, Nagini had coiled herself around the young witch's torso, from the top of her bottom to under her armpits. "Nagini…Nagini, what-" The snake butted at Hermione's shoulder, a clear indication to lie back. She complied, only through fear. "This isn't the most comfortable position." The snake hissed softly, almost melodically, near Hermione's ear, then ran her flat nose against Hermione's cheek. The young witch shuddered, turning her head to the other side. Nagini hissed gently again, then rested her head on Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione thought miserably, _How did she get herself into these situations?_


	41. Chapter 39

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 39**

_June 1997_

"Would you mind explaining, dear daughter, what exactly I walked in on this morning?" Bellatrix sneered sarcastically as she stood opposite her only child in one of the private sitting rooms on the first floor of Lestrange Manor.

After noticing that her early-bird daughter had failed to make an appearance at breakfast that morning, Bellatrix had gone to Hermione's room to find out what her only child was up to. Knocking on the door hadn't earned her an audible response, so she had stepped inside, and frozen in the doorway. Her heart had dropped into her stomach as she took in the sight of her Lord's Familiar under the covers with her daughter. Had the Dark Lord ordered the snake to hurt Hermione? Had He been displeased in some way? Why would He do this, when He had made several comments to both her and her husband about their daughter's qualities.

Thankfully Hermione chose that moment to shift on the bed and give a tired sigh, turning her head toward the door and her stunned mother. Hermione had started to speak, but her movements had woken her bed partner. Nagini raised her head off Hermione's shoulder, looking around the room almost sleepily. Spying Bellatrix in the doorway, the deadly Familiar became hostile and started hissing. The sound startled both mother and child. Hermione lifted herself onto her elbows, the covers slipping down to reveal Nagini coiled around her torso.

"Nagini," Hermione had spoken softly, "It's alright, calm down, please." She had added the 'please' when she felt Nagini give her a slight squeeze. What the squeeze had meant exactly, she didn't know, she didn't want to further anger the giant snake by appearing rude.

To their surprise, Nagini had acquiesced to Hermione's unspoken demand and settled down, even unfurling herself from around the young woman's body. Hermione couldn't hold back the relieved groan as she sat up in bed and slowly stretch her back in an arch. When she looked back at Bellatrix, she saw the woman standing there speechless as Nagini slithered off Hermione's bed, past Bellatrix and down the corridor.

"Was there something you needed, Bellatrix?" Too dumbstruck to answer, Bellatrix had just stood on the spot. "Perhaps after I shower and dress, we could regroup in one of the sitting rooms on the first floor?" The Death Eater just nodded. "Very well, Bellatrix. I'll see you then." She ignored her mother as she headed into her _en suite_ bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her.

"Well Hermione? Are you going to answer me or not?" Bellatrix's snapping voice brought Hermione out of her memories and back into the sitting room they were in.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want to know why the Dark Lord's snake was in your bed last night!"

"Technically she'd only been there since five this morning." Bellatrix raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Hermione sighed. "I couldn't sleep all of last night, so I went for a walk around the house-"

"You know there are Death Eaters here with us!"

"Bellatrix, there are always Death Eaters in this house." Hermione snapped sarcastically. The other woman wasn't impressed. "As I was saying. I went for a walk and we – myself and the Dark Lord – kind of…Came across each other. It wasn't a very long conversation, then I headed back to my room. But He came into my room and then we talked a little more."

"About what?"

"You don't need to know." Bellatrix clearly wasn't happy with that answer, but didn't push. "As He was leaving, He told Nagini to stay with me, in case any Death Eaters came to my room."

Bellatrix nodded thoughtfully, poking the pointed toes of her boots into the hard wood of the floor. "It obeyed you. The snake."

"Nagini. And 'it' is a 'she'. I would have thought you would know that, given how devoted you are to Him."

Mother and daughter glared at each other for a minute before Bellatrix sighed through her nose. "Why did _she_ obey you?"

"I honestly don't know. I don't see it as her obeying me – I think she just wanted to leave my room, for whatever reason."

"She was wrapped around you!" Bellatrix burst out. "Why was she wrapped around you?!"

"Surrounding. The Dark Lord calls it 'surrounding'; she's done it a few times." Bellatrix's jaw dropped, but Hermione continued. "I don't know exactly why she likes to do that – and frankly I don't particularly want to ask – but I do know that she likes the way my magic smells. Or tastes. Or makes her feel. The Dark Lord didn't really explain it very clearly, though we were going over His plans for Hogwarts at the time; He was, perhaps, distracted." Hermione finished purposefully nonchalantly, watching Bellatrix try to form a sentence, but fail. "I thought that was what you wanted, mother. You want the Dark Lord and I to talk, spend time together, even get along. And I know why. You've realised that, given His interest in me, I'm the only way that this family can gain any more influence in the Inner Circle. You and Rodolphus have already done all you can do – after all, you have both served Him since you were my age, you've committed all kinds of heinous crimes and atrocities, and you even spent fourteen years in Azkaban in His name…But now that you have a beautiful and intelligent daughter that He seems to have taken an interest in, you've seen an opportunity to gain even more favour from Him. Like a mid-level noblewoman dangling her daughter in front of a King in hopes he'll take her to bed and give her a few houses and a title…"

"Hermione…"

Bellatrix's soft tone horrified Hermione, churning her stomach in an instant. Was Bellatrix hoping that…Surely not…But…Was she? "Bellatrix, please tell me that you're not actually hoping that that's what'll happen." She didn't answer her. "Bellatrix…Are you serious? You actually want…" As Bellatrix looked at the floor, Hermione swallowed back bile. "You want me to let Him…"

"Hermione, a lot of favour and influence could be gained by you-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence! You want me to let that…_Creature_," She spat, her eyes filling with angry tears, "Slither all over my body like the vile snake that He is!"

"Hermione, watch your tone!" They stood toe-to-toe with each other, both angry and furious at the other. "This isn't just about you! This about our family!"

"Family?" She scoffed. "If this is about our family, then why don't you do it? Why don't you be the one who has to lie back and think of England? Why do I have to-"

"Because it's you that He wants! And if the Dark Lord wants you, then He _will_ have you, Hermione! Mark my words, daughter; you _will _please the Dark Lord, even if I have to _Imperio_ you to do it."


	42. Chapter 40

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 40**

_June 1997_

"Why are you so down in the mouth?"

Hermione groaned, pressing the crystal tumbler against her temple as she watched Dolohov enter the drinking room. It was three in the morning and she had been plagued by insomnia for almost a week. Bellatrix's words the previous week were on a constant loop in her mind. _A lot of favour and influence could be gained…This isn't just about you! This about our family!…If the Dark Lord wants you, then He will have you…You will please the Dark Lord, even if I have to Imperio you to do it._ She was now avidly avoiding Bellatrix wherever possible – that night she had even feigned a stomach ache to avoid sitting next to her at dinner. She had once been able to seek peace in the library, hidden amongst the books, but now that Voldemort's plans were progressing, He had taken to spending most of His time in there, in the corner that Hermione used to consider hers. Most nights she couldn't even escape in peaceful sleep anymore. Whether it was Bellatrix's haunting words, Voldemort's sickening attention, or Nagini sleeping either around or on top of Hermione, sleep had become nearly impossible. If this went on for much longer, she would need Dreamless Sleep potions. Fortunately, that night was one of the few when Nagini wasn't intruding on Hermione's rest, allowing her to sneak down to bar for a nightcap or two. Or six.

Dolohov's steps drew closer to the chaise longue Hermione was sprawled on. He eyed the bottle of spirit next to her and the tumbler against her forehead. "Was that bottle full when you started?" He asked with interest.

She turned her head and tried to focus on the bottle. "I don't remember." She drawled.

He chuckled lowly, summoning a glass of his own from the shelves behind the bar. "Fill me up." She gave an unimpressed groan and reached out for the glass bottle, but her blurry vision caused her to knock it over instead. He tutted. "I think we should cut you off." She gave an unladylike scoff. He reached over her on the chaise and picked up the bottle and pulling the cork out to fill his crystal glass. Hermione lifted her own glass up, clearly telling him to give her another one. He raised an eyebrow at her.

She glared. "Fill it. Now."

"Last one." He gave her a small measure. "So, Hermione, what's gotten you so upset that you're drinking enough to put some of my colleagues to shame?"

She closed her eyes and rubbed her pounding temple. "Tonight? Bellatrix."

Dolohov raised an eyebrow. "You specified 'tonight'. Have you been sneaking down here often lately?"

"Wanted to come down a few times." She slurred. "But that…_creature_ that insists on sleeping with me has been hindering my sleep."

"You should be careful not to talk about the Dark Lord like that, Hermione." He cautioned with a pointed finger.

She looked at him and waited before speaking. "I wasn't."

"Then what-"

"I meant that thing of His! The snake!" She waved her hand up and down in annoyance.

"The snake sleeps with you?" He asked in surprise.

Hermione groaned loudly. "Most nights, yeah. He said it's because she likes my smell." She slurred. "Well, the way my magic smells. She hates all your magic," She threw her hand towards the door, drunkenly referring to the other Death Eaters still residing in the dungeons of the Manor, "She says you smell sour and bitter and disgusting. But me," She groaned again in anger as she leant towards him and whispered, "She loves the way I smell! Can't get enough of me! She's in my room most nights, curling herself 'round me!" She spun her arm around in a spiral, knocking her own knee. Her silk dressing gown slid back to her hip. "I swear I'm going to end up with a knotted spine if it goes on much longer!"

Dolohov just listened in amazement as he crouched in front of her. "I've been meaning to ask you something." He eyed her with curious fascination. "Why do you even talk to me? Why didn't you run straight out the room when I came in? Why are you sitting here drinking with me, telling me all these naughty secrets?" He finished in a theatrical whisper.

"Because you're actually the perfect person to talk to about all this." She answered honestly with a shrug.

He couldn't hide his confusion and amazement. "You've definitely had enough to drink if you're spouting such nonsense."

"Think about it, Dolohov." She jabbed his shoulder before starting to count off her fingers. "Rodolphus still treats me like the toddler he lost all those years ago because he's missed out on being a parent to a child and pre-teen, and now his daughter – who was still learning her numbers and colours when he was captured – is suddenly a grown woman who is against everything he believes in. Lucius doesn't think I've got any business being told anything about anything because of my past friendships. Narcissa just wants me to be a perfect Pureblood young lady, with perfect hair and pressed dresses, probably because she's always wanted a daughter of her own and could never have one, and she missed my growing years too so I wasn't there to be her little doll that she could dress up and primp and play with. Draco – let's face it – has no real experience with Death Eaters and even though he acts tough, it's all a front because he's been coddled his entire life because he's the sole heir to one of the oldest Pureblood families in Europe so I imagine as a child he was, perhaps literally, wrapped in cotton wool in case he skinned his knee, and all that's turned him into a shrinking violet. The Dark Lord is a master manipulator who wants to lure me to the Dark side and into His bed, so He wouldn't tell me the truth about anything. And don't even get me started on the psychosis that is my precious mother…"

She regarded him closely. "But you…" She touched his stubbled chin and pondered, "You don't treat me like a child, or a glass figurine; you know the way of this world and the people in it; you don't care about hurting my feelings with honesty. So, all of those facts – despite my dozens of grievances with you and your actions – make you the most interesting person in this manor right now." She scoffed, taking the tumbler out of his hand and drinking the last of the whiskey in it. Dolohov stood up and took the glass off her, walking to put it on the bar across the room. "Do you want to know the best part?" She slurred.

"Sure." He chuckled, leaning back against the bar.

"You're impartial. Unbiased. Honest. You don't care about buttering me up, or making me like you, or keeping me sweet so I'll fuck whoever you say…" She trailed off sadly.

He joked, "Well Hermione, I'm almost touched."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to start begging any time soon." She jabbed a finger at him.

He chuckled deeply as he walked back to her, crouching again. "I know."

They looked at each for a minute. "What?" She asked moodily, the alcohol starting to depress her. He said nothing, just rested his right hand on her bare knee. "What are you doing?" She demanded again.

"Nothing. Yet." His hand slowly slid along her thigh and up the insides of her sleep shorts, tracing the edges of her underwear.

"Dolohov," She started warningly, "What are you doing?"

He responded by running his finger gently over her quim. "You're stressed and miserable."

"So you think toying with me will make me feel better?"

He smirked. "Perhaps. Why don't we give it a go?" He asked, slipping his hands over her hips and pulling her shorts and panties down to her knees.

She barked, "Because I don't want to."

He brought his face close to hers, his nose an inch from hers. "Then stop me." He whispered as he skimmed a hand over her pussy, and chuckled. "For someone who says she doesn't want this, your cunt is remarkably wet." He smirked as he examined his fingers glistening with her arousal. Locking his eyes with hers, he brought his fingers to his lips and drew his tongue over them. He hummed appreciatively. "Delicious."

"Dolohov."

"Yes, Hermione?" He enquired as he dipped his fingers back down to her core and gathered more juices.

She said nothing for a minute as he gently pressed his thumb to her clit in a slow rhythm. Her words shocked both of them. "Either make me cum, or get out."

His eyes darkened and he crashed his mouth to hers. It was rough, almost painful. Lips wrestled against each other, tongue battled for dominance, teeth nipped and bit. Hands on her upper arms dragged her to the end of the chaise and then pushed her back to lie flat as he knelt before her, pulling her shorts and panties off.

A thought flashed through her mind. "Don't fuck me!" She ordered.

"Not yet." He shook his head, pushed her knees apart and dove in.

She cried out as his mouth set to work all over her pussy, his stubbled chin and cheeks dragging across her smooth and bare flesh. His tongue worked up and down her slit, around her clit, circled her hole and dove in before repeating the process. It was quick, and Hermione was glad. She was not in the mood for a prolonged encounter – she wanted to cum.

He inserted a finger into her. She gasped and grabbed his hair in her hand, almost digging her fingernails into his skin. He didn't seem to care. In fact, he seemed to speed up against her skin. Adding another finger, he started a quick rhythm that had her breathing choppily and digging her heels into his back. His mouth moved to her clit and he sucked voraciously, tapping his tongue against her hard nub. She groaned and held his head to her, not going to let him stop. His free hand moved up her stomach, under her shirt and grasped her breast, squeezing and rolling the soft mound in his calloused palm. She was about to explode, she knew it.

His fingers inside her, his mouth on her clit, his hand massaging her breasts and pinching her nipples drove her over the edge. Holding his hair so tightly she felt some give way, she held his face to her pussy as she came with a sharp cry. He slowed his fingers inside her until her arched back relaxed and she flopped down on the chaise. Pulling his fingers out, he sucked on them deeply, relishing her taste. Cleaning her with his tongue, he kissed his way up her stomach, pushing her top out of the way and kissing her breasts.

Hermione shoved him away, crawling off the chaise to her discarded shorts and underwear. Her back to him, she pulled them on and ran from the room. Running all the way back to her bedroom, she locked herself in for the night, throwing herself down on the bed.

What was wrong with her?


	43. Chapter 41

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 41**

_June 1997_

Hermione woke peacefully for the first in over a week. The summer morning sun shone through the window, warming her skin when she stretched her arm out across the bed to feel the gentle heat of the sun's rays. Wait. When had the curtains been opened? She always slept with them closed, and whenever Tippy woke her in the mornings, the Mammy Elf was never one to do so quietly.

Eyeing the curtains suspiciously, she rolled onto her back. A hand grabbed her throat, dragging her whole body up the bed and banging into the headboard. As her hands grabbed at the one at her throat, she looked into the dark browns eyes of Voldemort's younger face, only an inch from hers.

"Good morning, Hermione. Sleep well?" He snarled at her.

"What…?" She struggled to breathe as His hand remained tight around her neck.

"Do you delight in defying Me?" He growled, knocking her head against the hard wood of the headboard.

"What," She coughed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, My little whore, that I am aware of your escapades with Dolohov in the early hours of the morning." His eyes darkened with rage. "Are you completely incapable of keeping your legs closed?" He roared.

Filled with fear from His unrelenting grip and a rage of her own, she struck out at Him, scratching the side of His face with her manicured nails. Shouting in anger, He threw her across the bed, giving her the chance to roll off the other side and grab her wand. Straightening into a fighting stance, she breathed heavily as she watched Him touch the scratches she gave Him. He looked at the blood on His fingers, then met her eyes with His. She readied herself for battle, perhaps even death. Instead He laughed. He just laughed and sucked the blood off His digits.

"You never cease to amuse Me, Hermione."

"Get out." She ordered.

"Now now, My dear, you've already scratched Me, there's no need for rudeness." He chastised. "And I meant what I said earlier. Is it impossible for you to turn away male attention? First the Zabini boy and now Dolohov. The boy wasn't too surprising, but a malicious and sadistic deviant like Antonin? If I weren't furious, I'd find it rather amusing."

"How did You know about last night?"

"I heard some rather delicious moans coming from the bar and investigated. You were quite the sight with your legs wrapped around his neck." He chuckled. "Tell Me, Hermione," He started moving toward her slowly, "What was it like? To have a man like Dolohov between your thighs? Was it everything you desired? Were you satisfied, or were you left wanting more?"

"Get out!" She screamed, unable to take any more of His torment.

He had her against the wall before she could resist. She struggled. "I don't know why you're resisting Me now, My dear. Dolohov held you like this and last night you let him feast upon you. I thought you were all about equality. Why does he get to sample your pleasure, and I do not?"

She had no answer that wouldn't get her killed. She stayed silent, looking away in shame.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Tell you what, dear, how about a peace offering?"

She was too shocked to ignore Him any longer. Voldemort offering peace? "What peace offering?"

"You let Me sample you one time, just once, and then I'll wait patiently for you to come to My bed." She shook her head, not daring to open her mouth for fear of vomiting all over Him. "No? That's a very generous offer, Hermione." She remained firm. "Well we'll just have to compromise, won't we?"

"How can we compromise on this?" There was no middle ground with sex!

He stepped away from her, touching His mouth with a finger. "You put on a show for Me. Something special." He leered.

She gaped. "With Dolohov?"

"No, no. You don't trust him enough; you wouldn't feel free to be yourself around him."

"Then who?" The way He smirked at her gave her the answer. She pushed away from the wall. "No. No, absolutely not. Leave him out of this!"

"Hermione," Voldemort started in an almost sweet tone, "You miss him surely? It's been nearly half a year since you were last together. Why not seize this opportunity for a reunion?"

"Because I don't want him being dragged into…Whatever this is!" She defended.

"He could be _Obliviated_. He'd need never remember what happened."

"But while it's happening? No. It would be too horrific for him. For both of us. I won't do that to him."

"Then what do you suggest, My dear?" He sat Himself regally in an armchair by the dormant fireplace.

"Surely there must be _something else_ You want? Anything else!"

"If you wish, Dolohov can fill in for your little friend. Though I must warn you, I don't think you're ready for the games Antonin likes to play with his female friends."

"Games?" She asked tiredly as she slumped into the window seat, the sun on her back doing nothing to soothe the cold in her stomach.

"Oh you know, the usual. Spanking, caning, flogging, suspension, nipple torture, throat fucking. The usual for a Death Eater. And if you do choose to go with Antonin, the both of us will be expecting you to partake in those activities." He promised darkly, eyeing her with obvious interest.

Her stomach rolled as she thought of her next words. "Counter-proposal. I go with Blaise…And give you a Pensieve memory. That way You will get to see everything, but Blaise won't know that's what's happening."

He hummed as if debating her proposal. "Not as good as a live show…But I suppose it'll do."

"But there's still a problem. Blaise and I have been forbidden from seeing each other. And I doubt my parents would approve of me 'putting on a show', even if it is for You."

He shrugged. "A meeting place can easily be arranged."

"And what if Blaise doesn't want to come? What if he says no?"

He smirked. "Oh I'm sure your womanly wiles can convince him to show his face." Hermione turned her head away in disgust and heartbreak. Was she really going to prostitute her love for Blaise? "Hermione," Voldemort sang softly, "I grow impatient with this. Do we have a deal or not?" She turned her back and nodded, sick to her stomach. "Good." He was pleased. She stood up to walk into the bathroom, preferably to vomit profusely. "Not so fast, My dear. We still have to iron out the details." He leered.

!"!

_July 1997_

It happened a week later. Hermione had sent Blaise a letter, inviting him to a special evening alone with her in a hotel in London. She gave him instructions to come alone, tell no-one and head straight to the room. Voldemort had told her parents that He had a lot to discuss with her about the changes at Hogwarts, and she would spend the night at one of His manor houses across England. They were so overjoyed they didn't question it.

So there she was. In an extravagant hotel room in London, looking solemnly out a window into the night sky as she waited for her unknowing love. There was a knock on the door. Steeling herself for what was to come, Hermione went over and opened the door. There he was, as beautiful as ever. His indigo eyes locked on hers.

"The first thing I read aloud to you?" She asked quietly, not quite trusting that this wasn't Voldemort Polyjuiced as Blaise.

"A sonnet by Shakespeare. When did you read it to me?"

"After we made love on Valentine's Day in the Prefects' bathroom."

He entered the room, looking around curiously. "Why here?"

She shushed him gently, kissing his lips tenderly. "Wait here." She walked over to a bag she had brought with her. Pulling two items out, she headed back to him. She handed him one of the items. "We're going to play a game."

"A game?" He asked in amusement, turning the item over in his hand. "What kind of game?"

She slipped on an emerald coloured silk mask, covering the top half of her face. "We're strangers at a ball. All night we've been eyeing each other from across the ballroom, and have made our way upstairs so we can get to know each other better." She pulled at the sash holding her robes together, revealing a black satin cocktail dress that hugged her curves like a second skin. Her hair was piled up on top of her head, a few long curled tendrils escaping and framing her face. She was wearing stiletto heels.

"Is this why you told me to wear dress robes?" He smiled. She nodded. "Very well." He slid on his own black mask. "Shall we begin?"

!"!

!"!

_**A/N: Question! Am I writing what happens next? ;)**_


	44. SPOILER - HERMIONE'S BEHAVIOUR

Hi everyone! I feel the need to explain something that has some people very upset/angry with me.

The issue is Hermione's behaviour. A lot of people are saying that Hermione is now acting very OOC - regarding her interactions with Dolohov, mainly. I do not deny that this is true; the Hermione from the books would never let a vicious Death Eater like Dolohov anywhere near her.

Due to the amount of people having tizzy fits (sorry but that's the only way I can describe certain people leaving certain reviews and PMs) over Hermione's behaviour, I am forced to answer the questions you must all be having sooner than I had planned to. And yes, there IS a reason for Hermione's behaviour (not just that I want to turn her into a slut, as some people say) and it IS going to be explained within the story in due course.

For those of you who do not wish to know the answer just yet (AKA those of you who trust me as the writer), I will leave several line spaces free so you don't inadvertently read the hint/answer below.

The reason for Hermione's behaviour is as follows:

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What is Nagini?

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If you think about that question hard enough, the answer will soon become clear.


	45. Chapter 42

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 42**

_July 1997_

Hermione Flooed into the main dining room of Lestrange Manor just in time for lunch the next day. With her robe drawn tightly around her, she put on a smile for her family who were in the middle of their meal.

"Good afternoon." She called gently, heading over to the table.

Rodolphus replied first. "Good afternoon, dear." He set his knife and fork down as he looked at his daughter. She looked drained, physically and emotionally. "A long night with the Dark Lord?" He asked gently. While he was proud that the Dark Lord found Hermione interesting and useful enough to tolerate her for an entire evening – Voldemort could only tolerate Bellatrix and himself for only a few hours, at most – and knew the benefits that could come from his daughter having such a close relationship with the Dark wizard, he did not wish to see his daughter suffering so. It was clear that she didn't like the Dark Lord, and yet she was forced to spend so much time around him. His heart ached for his little girl.

She hid her wince as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the silver decanter on the table. "It was fine."

"Did you manage to get everything done?"

_If you mean the checklist He gave me, then…_"Yes."

There was a pause. "Well, darling?" Bellatrix prodded eagerly. "How was it?"

_Physically, amazing as always. Emotionally, I want to die._ "I'm not supposed to talk about it." That wasn't technically a lie.

The Floo fired up again. It was Voldemort. The Lestranges and Malfoys immediately stood up from the dining table, bowing their heads in respect and chorused a low 'my Lord'. None of them saw that Hermione merely sipped her coffee, her face draining off all colour. "Good afternoon, everyone. Carry on with your meal."

"Would you like to join us, my Lord?" Bellatrix inquired.

"No." He replied shortly. "Are you eating lunch, Hermione? We had a very long night." He quipped, sticking to their agreed cover story that Hermione had spent the night researching and working with Voldemort at His mansion in Wales, instead of her spending the night with Blaise in a hotel room in London.

"No, I'm fine with coffee for now. I might have a sandwich later." _Not likely, given how nauseated I am right now._

"Did the two of you have a productive night, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked again. "Was Hermione helpful?"

"Well we'll have to wait and see the results. Won't we, Hermione?" He gave her a challenging stare, referring to the Pensieve memory she had promised to give Him of her night with Blaise, in exchange for not having to 'perform' for Him in a live setting with Dolohov, which no doubt would have included some rather intense sadomasochistic activities.

"Indeed." She replied quietly. "If you don't mind, everyone, I'll head to my room and take a shower."

She slipped out of the dining room and headed up to her bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her. She put the coffee cup down gently on her nightstand, shrugged off her robe and stiletto heels from the previous night – quietened with a handy Silencing charm – and entered her bathroom, promptly vomiting violently into the porcelain toilet bowl.

"Feeling better?" A voice called from her bedroom. Voldemort. She vomited again. "I'll take that as a 'no'."

A few minutes later, Hermione straightened up when her stomach had stopped churning, washing out her mouth and brushing her teeth. She took a gentle sip of a Stomach Settling potion, hoping it worked soon. When she re-entered her bedroom, she saw Him sitting in the armchair in front of the cold fireplace.

"You just can't wait, can You?" She mumbled quietly.

"I'm quite eager to see what you have to offer, Hermione." He leered at her. "I've been waiting for an opportunity like this for nearly a year now, ever since you became a true Pureblooded young woman."

Her stomach almost rebelled again despite the potion, but she quashed it down. Reaching into a pocket in her discarded robes, she pulled out the small glass vial containing the memory He wanted. "There You are. That's everything from last night, and this morning. All of Your requirements met." He examined the vial as if curious, then reached into His voluminous robes. He withdrew a miniaturised Pensieve, enlarging it with a wave of His hand, setting it down on her nightstand. Her heart froze. "Are You really going to do it here?"

"Of course I am, dear. No time like the present." He smiled, uncorking the glass vial and pouring the liquid memory into the water of the Pensieve. He gestured to the stone bowl.

"What?"

"After you, My dear." He leered.

She took a startled step back. "No, no, absolutely not. You've gotten what You wanted; You have the memory! Just watch it and-" He grabbed the back of her neck and plunged her face into the liquid memory, following her a second later.

!"!

Hermione straightened up and whimpered in despair when she saw that she was back in the hotel room from the night before. Across the room, she saw her Memory-Self and the Memory-Blaise. She tried not to look at herself too much, ever shy and uncertain about her appearance and attractiveness. On the other hand, Blaise was so beautiful. Such perfect and flawless skin being revealed as the Memory-Hermione slowly unfastened the buttons holding his silk shirt closed. When his muscled but lithe torso was bared to the room, Memory-Hermione dropped the shirt to the floor behind him, running her fingernails across his tight and defined six-pack.

"Quite a specimen." Voldemort commented behind her. "It's easy to see why you spread your legs so quickly for him."

She winced. "I fell in love with his mind first; he enjoys reading as much as I do, he is as studious and dedicated as I, and he treated me with respect and courtesy. His wondrous body is just a bonus." She quipped dryly, trying to avoid watching her Memory-Self unbuckling the belt from Memory-Blaise's trousers, slipping it out of the loops in his trousers. She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a migraine growing behind her eyes. "Are You really going to make me watch this?" Memory-Blaise dipped his head and started kissing up Memory-Hermione's neck as she opened his trousers.

"Oh yes, Hermione. I've heard that some couples quite enjoying watching pornography together." He chuckled.

She froze and spun around to glare at Him. "Firstly; this is not pornography!" She snapped, gravely insulted. "This is a loving encounter between two people who have very profound feelings for each other, that You are now sullying merely by knowing of its existence!" Behind her, Memory-Hermione had just sunk to her knees and had taken Memory-Blaise's long and thick cock into her mouth. Voldemort's eyes flicked from Hermione's face to watch the scene behind her. "And You and I are _not _a couple."

She thought she had won the argument when He said nothing for over a minute, seemingly content to watch Memory-Hermione's oral technique. Finally, He said, "Not yet."

!"!

Hermione stalked down to the bar that night, her short dressing gown tied tightly around her waist. The Manor was silent; the Death Eaters must be having an early night from their usual drunken debauchery. She reached the bar without any problems, slipping the door open quietly and peeking inside. Dolohov was alone, sitting at the wooden bar with a bottle of clear liquor on the wooden top at his side. He looked up when she stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. Making her way over to the bar, she took the bottle of alcohol, which she then saw was gin, unscrewed the cap and drank straight from the bottle. She only managed two gulps before she had to put the bottle down. Gin was disgusting, she concluded, putting the glass bottle on the bar.

"Hurt me." She ordered.

When she looked at him, he was visibly surprised. "I beg your pardon?" He asked through small laughs.

She repeated. "Hurt me. I want you to hurt me tonight."

He pondered that for a minute, twirling his crystal tumbler as he scrutinised her. "Hermione, I don't think you fully understand what you're asking."

"Perhaps not. But tonight, I want you to hurt me."

"Why?"

"You don't need to know."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're asking me to hurt you, and you say there isn't a reason?"

"I didn't say there isn't a reason; I said you don't need to know the reason. You just need to hurt me."

He pushed his tumbler away, turning on the bar stool to fully face her. "What do you mean when you say 'hurt me'?"

"Physically."

"That much I gathered." He snapped dryly. "With magic?"

"No."

"With an instrument?"

"No."

"My hands?"

"Yes."

His eyebrow was raised again. "You want me to physically hurt you with my hands? You want a beating?"

"Yes."

Dolohov regarded her closely, trying to work out what had brought this on; why was this vanilla girl suddenly asking to have pain inflicted on her? "Have you done something wrong?" She nodded. "Say it." He commanded.

"Yes, I've done something wrong."

"You've been bad?"

Tears filled her eyes. "Yes, I've been bad."

"You need to be punished?"

"Yes." She whispered, her eyes closing.

"Say it."

"I need to be punished."

Dolohov paused, and eventually sighed. "Hermione, do you really think that being beaten by a man you hate will make you feel better about whatever you did? We both know you're smarter than that. You think you deserve to be punished for your actions-"

"I do deserve it!"

"Says who? You? Punishment only works if there's a lesson to be learned. What lesson could you learn from me beating you tonight? The only thing I see that you could take from it is that I'm a sadistic bastard. And while that's true, I'd like to be something more to you."

"Like what?"

"I'll always be sadistic –it's who I am," He admitted without shame or regret, "Perhaps a sadistic lover?" He teased, with a half-serious undertone.

"Oh yes, the Dark Lord has already informed me of the 'games' you like to play with your female companions." She snorted snidely.

"Not just females." He smirked at her slightly shocked face. "You're surprised? Sometimes lower ranking Death Eaters need to be taught a lesson, and there's nothing more arousing than having someone whimpering in pain underneath you." He winked. She groaned loudly in disgust and turned to leave. His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. "Do you still want that beating?"

"You said-"

"You're offering yourself to my whims, Hermione – no man could ever refuse that." His eyes darkened. "Now be a good girl and bend over the bar."


	46. Chapter 43

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**The Serpents' Child**

**Chapter 43**

_July 1997_

"Why are we here?"

Hermione asked her mother as they and Rodolphus walked down the cobbled pathway to the gates of Malfoy Manor. The hedges surrounding them were tall, nearly twenty foot high, making Hermione feel quite claustrophobic. The distant calls from the albino peacocks sounded eerie and haunting instead of the beautiful songs that they had been in the early summer. But the War was progressing now, and even the elegant animals seemed to know, changing their singing styles accordingly. Hermione had quite liked Malfoy Manor on her previous visits, but she was confused as to why they were heading there that day. There was no party planned, no dinner arranged, no afternoon tea gossip sessions. That left 'politics'. But that didn't explain why Hermione had been forced to attend with her parents; in the past they had gone to their 'political meetings' and had left her in Lestrange Manor for a few hours until their return. So why was she there with them?

"We have a meeting." Rodolphus answered.

"'We' meaning you two? Or 'we' meaning all three of us?" Hermione asked.

"All of us." Bellatrix smiled at her as they all passed straight through the iron gates, the wards letting them through.

They approached the house, the doors being opened for them before they had to knock. House Elves waited by the door to take their outer robes or, in Hermione's case, coat. Rodolphus was wearing his usual meeting attire of an expensive suit with a matching waistcoat, while Bellatrix was in her usual corseted black leather and lace dress, her hair purposefully wild and uncontrolled. Whereas Hermione, following Narcissa's instructions of appearing ladylike and feminine, was in a knee-length 'Slytherin green' pencil dress with a turtle-neck and full-length sleeves – to hide the marks from her latest exploits with Dolohov – with a thin silver belt around the bottom of her ribs to compliment the green of the dress. On her dainty feet was a pair of high-heeled silver pumps. Her necklace was ever-present, and her hair was in a high ponytail. Narcissa and Lucius greeted them as they entered the entryway; Lucius and Rodolphus shook hands; Narcissa kissing Bellatrix's and Hermione's cheeks, giving Hermione's outfit the all-important nod of approval before escorting them into the drawing room where everyone was gathered.

Everyone in the room was of Hermione's parents' generation, Draco and Hermione being the only exceptions. Crabbe Snr, Goyle Snr, the horrid Yaxley, Dolohov – who never failed to leer at Hermione, and wasn't failing today – her Uncle Rabastan, Nott Snr, Flint Snr, Peter Pettigrew and many others. Altogether, there had to have been at least forty people in the room, milling around the room in various places and groups. A large and ornately carved chair was positioned at the head of the table. Clearly, the Dark Lord was going to sit there when He arrived. Narcissa, Lucius and the Lestranges moved over to a corner of the room on the side with the chairs lined up on the side of the table that would be on the occupant of the large chair's right side.

"How long until He arrives, Cissy?" Bellatrix asked in a whisper.

She was answered by a low hissing sound ringing through the room, everyone immediately stopping in their conversations to watch Nagini slither into the room, Voldemort only a step behind her. Everyone in the room, Hermione sullenly included, bowed their heads and gave a respect 'My Lord'.

"My friends. Please, be seated." He invited, waving His hands at the table and the seats moved out. As everyone busied themselves with finding the seats that they wanted, Voldemort turned His head and looked at Hermione's face. "Hermione. I did not expect to see you here today." If He were capable of it, Hermione would say that He sounded quite pleased by her presence.

She offered a smile back at him. "Bellatrix was rather insistent that I attend. She said I needed a break from studying."

"And you feel otherwise?"

Hermione quickly responded, bearing in mind that Voldemort had told her that He liked it when she was honest with Him. "I prefer to devote my time to my studies, rather than sitting in a meeting where the conversation topics would be things that either I am uninterested in or do not share Your views on."

The reactions in the room didn't surprise her very much; her family tensed and waited for her to be tortured, half the Death Eaters admired her for her courage to speak to Voldemort in such a way, while the other half secretly thought she needed to be 'put in her place'. And Voldemort just smiled. "Would you like to be excused from this meeting?"

Beside her, Hermione felt her mother tense further and become more uncomfortable. Though whether she was uncomfortable because Bellatrix _wanted_ Hermione to attend the meeting, or if she _didn't _want her there, Hermione couldn't tell. She didn't care. "If You wouldn't mind my absence…?"

He gave a small laugh. "I shall miss your company, My dear, though I will excuse you if you wish to study."

Hermione was genuinely grateful. She'd heard that these meetings could be quite intense, her mother included. Hermione didn't want to see that. "Thank you." She began to move past Voldemort when Bellatrix spoke up, almost timidly.

"Hermione?" She asked quietly, aware that everyone in the room was watching them. "Surely you could spare the Dark Lord just a few minutes of your time?" She asked daintily, though desperation seeped through every syllable. So Bellatrix _did_ want her in the room. The only question was; why?

"I'm sorry, Bellatrix, but I truly do have a lot of reading to do." Hermione brushed her off, turned and was about to walk out the room when something flicked her ankle. She looked down and didn't even gasp when she saw Nagini's tongue flicking at her ankle. Nagini's trail rose higher up her leg until her head was level with Hermione's breasts. The snake then pulled away and slithered back to Voldemort and over His shoulders, hissing moodily as she went.

Voldemort laughed. "She says that she had hoped to surround you again, my dear."

The Death Eaters jeered, Dolohov chief among them, while Hermione chuckled nervously. "Well, it will have to be another day, I'm afraid. If You'll excuse me…" With that, she left the dining room, heading back out into the entryway.

She waited there for a minute or so, trying to control her shallow panicked breathing. No matter how much time Hermione spent near Nagini, the enormous reptile always made her uncomfortable, both in body and in mind.

Footsteps interrupted her thoughts. She straightened up as Snape entered the room. He paused when he saw her.

"Miss Lestrange."

"Professor." She replied coldly. "The meeting has started in the dining room." She offered as she started to head down the corridor towards the library.

"You are to be absent from the meeting?"

She stopped and turned her head to look at him. "Yes."

"The Dark Lord allowed this?"

"He offered. I have reading to do." He gave her a curt nod before heading towards the dining room. She quickly spoke up. "Lacewing flies, leeches, Bicorn horn, knotgrass, fluxweed, Boomslang skin." Snape stopped dead in his tracks, turning slowly around the look at her. "Would it be possible to increase the…Permanency of the mixture?" She knew she was being cryptic to anyone who might overhear the conversation, but she also knew from the look on his face that Snape understood exactly what she meant.

"Theoretically."

"By increasing the amount of knotgrass used?"

"Yes."

"Is there a maximum amount one should use?"

His brow furrowed, then he hesitated. "I wouldn't use more than five times the stated dose. Otherwise the results would be…Unpredictable."

"And would the increased amounts directly correlate to the increased permanency? For example, if I used twice the amount, would the permanency double also?"

"Again, theoretically. Though it might be affected by the quality and freshness of the ingredients used."

She hummed thoughtfully. "Understood. Thank you." Was all she said, before heading down the corridor to the Malfoy library. She got halfway down the corridor, passing by the bottom of a staircase leading up to the second sitting room when a voice spoke from behind her.

"Hello, beautiful." Normally she would have jumped in fright at a mysterious voice behind her. But all she did was stop and turn around. A man, probably in his early thirties, with long black wild hair with an unusual thick red streak, tied back with a piece of cloth, stood a few stairs up from the bottom of the staircase, leaning casually against the stone wall. His trousers were faded, with a brown cheque pattern, his shirt similarly patterned but with pink and brown cheques. His feet were adorned with black leather boots coming to just under his kneecaps. Despite being inside, he wore a heavy thick leather jacket. A band of brown material was tied around his left bicep, just above his elbow. But what unnerved Hermione most was the way he was looking at her. His dark brown – almost black – eyes, lined with eyeliner, stared at her, unblinking. Almost as if he could see right through her. She had become accustomed to men leering at her, but this man…He was something new.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Scabior, love." He answered, half-falling, half-jumping to the bottom of the stairs and sauntering up to her. "Who might you be? Not seen you 'round here before."

"Hermione Lestrange."

Normally when she told people her name, their eyes shown with fear. But his eyes…Nothing. In fact, he just smiled at her. "Nice to mee'cha, Hermione Lestrange." He dragged out her name as he drew closer to her.

"Are you not supposed to be in the meeting?" She asked, trying not to show how uncomfortable she was with his closeness, being almost toe-to-toe with the mysterious man.

He smiled. "Aren't you?" She didn't answer him. Instead, he ducked his head right next to hers, inhaling deeply. "Chocolate and strawberries…"

"Get away from her!" Both of them turned their heads to see Bellatrix hurtling down the corridor, her eyes glowing with rage. Scabior took a lazy step back, seemingly waiting for the oncoming attack. Bellatrix got a few foot away from them, pushing Scabior back into a wall, getting as close to him as he had gotten to Hermione. "Stay away from my daughter, you disgusting little Snatcher!"

"Yes, Madame Lestrange…" He spoke softly, looking away from her furious face, though he didn't sound afraid.

Bellatrix stepped back from him, taking Hermione's arm and escorting her to the library, opening the door and pushing her in, closing the door behind her. From inside the library, Hermione waited. Waited for screams, or for a bright flash of green magic and then a thump. But there was nothing. No shouts, no screams, no whispered words.

Who was that man? What was a 'Snatcher'? And why didn't Bellatrix kill him when she had killed people for less?


End file.
